The South Side of Anywhere
by Courtney Peppernell
Summary: Sometimes you fall in love with your eyes closed, and when you open them, the person is someone you never thought it could be. It started with letters, and turned into Faberry.
1. Prologue

Little Readers!

I was trying not to do this. I mean _Brittana_ is one set of feelings I can handle.

But_ Faberry_? Good grief, why do people suggest these things?

Okay _Faberry_ fans, I don't even know where to begin, because you guys are so dedicated to something that I don't even think the writer's would have the brains to explore.

So let me explore it for you! Let's see how long you can ride this one out.

So similar to my _Brittana_ fic, I've got one main protagonist... look I think Rachel Berry is awesome, but I also feel that Quinn Fabray is a character that the writers have royally screwed up. One minute she's one thing, the next she's dyed her hair pink...

I want to explore Quinn.

I think she's such a good character that deserves depth, and Dianna Agron… well her intelligence is everything I aspire to.

So insert the spotlight on Quinn Fabray. Finally!

Follow me belikecourtney (twitter) and help guide me through this!

As always,

Happy Reading :)

Court

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><p><strong>The South Side of Anywhere<strong>

**Prologue**

Someone once said that intimacy all started with one single touch. The brush of a fingertip, the feel of someone's hair skim past your neck, the locking of their fingers in yours. It all starts with one touch, one touch and something ignites and then before you've even had time to ask for a guidebook or a set of rules, the fires blazing out of control and heading straight for anywhere at all.

_It started with letter's._

_You left me letter's in all the places you knew I'd find them._

_I'd fallen in love with you even before I knew it was you._

_I'd fallen in love with your words and your lyrics and all the ink splashed across the lines you left for me every day._

_When I finally found who you were, I tried to hide; I tried to run away because I was so scared._

_It was __you._

_I was in love with __you__._

_And now,_

_Now I'm still in love with you._

_You're there and I'm here and somehow we've always just written it down. _

_You wrote it,_

_I wrote it too._

_Letter's of love._

_So maybe now this is all I have,_

_I told you I wouldn't hurt you and I broke that promise, and there's not enough of my words in the world that could ever express how sorry I am._

_Smalls I want you, I need you, and I can't live without you._

_Please, tomorrow, meet me on the south side of anywhere,_

_I'll be waiting._

_I'll always be waiting._

The envelope was sealed, holding words that are said so much the world sometimes loses the value of them. There's a lot in the world that looks like love, it tastes like love, it feels like love, it even sounds like love, but sometimes people are just doing what they think is best.

If you found that person, would you ever let them go?

What if one morning you woke up to find they weren't there anymore?

How far would you go?

More importantly when the time was right, would you know what words to write?

_Come find me smalls, meet me on the south side of anywhere._


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

High school, Sophomore Year

_Pain makes you weak, before it makes you stronger_

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><p>The pain was too much, it felt like someone had taken a knife and sliced through her stomach. There was blood everywhere; it was sprawling across the bathroom tiles, rushing through the cracks, filling the gaps in between like a mosaic of anger that wasn't going to stop.<p>

Quinn gripped her stomach in agony. She was sobbing so hard but no sound was leaving her mouth, nothing was making any sense other than all the pain. She bent over, her head against the cubicle, her eyes closed.

"Please god," she begged, "Please god, someone help me,"

The door to the bathroom was swung open and she heard her name.

"Q?" Santana called, "Baby mama, are you practicing your birthing calls or did you get stuck in the toilet bowl?"

"San," she screamed.

Blood; there was so much blood.

Santana simultaneously kicked the door inwards, in response, "Jesus Christ," Santana cried reaching for her.

"There's so much blood," Quinn choked, god it was everywhere, it was dripping down her legs, it was filling her shoes, soaking through her socks, soaking her pants, soaking everything in this sickening bright red.

_God this was it._

"Q," Santana whimpered pulling her phone out, she began to rub her back as Quinn cried into the side of the wall.

"Ambulance," Santana said urgently into her receiver, "I need an ambulance to McKinley High,"

Santana gripped Quinn tightly as the operator fired questions at her, "there's so much blood," she cried, and her face said everything Quinn and the operator already knew, "I think she's having a miscarriage,"

"E TRAUMA NOW" resounds throughout the department on the overhead pager.

White lights hung above Quinn's head, as the ceiling seemed to rush past in moments, that she wasn't even sure were happening. Santana hadn't let go of her hand the entire time in the ambulance. The paramedic had punctured a needle into her arm, and suddenly the pain seemed to ease, but she could still feel blood, she could still smell it, god she wanted to be sick.

"Female, 16 years old," the paramedic is yelling at one of the MD's.

A woman bends over the hospital bed, "Miss Fabray? Quinn? Can you hear me sweetheart, I want you to squeeze my hand if you can hear me,"

"Santana," Quinn replied, there was too much light, saucepans were spinning above her head like planets, she felt sick, she wanted to be sick.

The room went silent as the paramedics tried to explain what had happened.

"Ruptured ectopic pregnancy," the officer explains, "Five months and three weeks pregnant,"

A million hands were grasping at her, cutting clothes, placing tubes in her.

"Santana," Quinn cried.

"Q," she heard, "Q, I'm right here, let the doctors fix you, it's going to be okay,"

The last thing Quinn heard was Santana muffling a cry as a nurse bent over her and injection something into her arm. All the lights faded.

**. . .**

The hospital smelt like apple juice does when it's freshly pulped, at least this was the first thing Quinn smelt when the anaesthesia wore off. Opening her eye's felt like trying to open them with her head in the sand, they were scratchy and heavy and midway between fluttering them open, she wished her brain had just decided to keep them closed.

"San! She's waking up!"

The figure was blurry, outlined above her, but Quinn would know that voice even if she never opened her eyes again. Another figure appeared by the bed side, slightly darker, she bent down, nearly engulfing Quinn's central vision.

"Q? Are you awake Q?"

"San," she managed to choke out.

The vision came back in a rush then. Like someone had walked into the room and switched the lights on. Quinn felt blinded. Only now did she realise that Brittany had been holding an apple juice box inches away from her face. The stickiness of hair indicated it had dribbled on her. If ever you've been asleep for what feels like a century, it's uncanny how much your senses restart in a rush. They kick into overdrive almost immediately and suddenly you've got all these different feelings running at you, annoyed that you haven't used them in a while.

Quinn felt stiffness claw at her body, she could see Santana biting her lip as Brittany disappeared to call the nurses, and she could smell hospital, that musky smell of bed sheets and bed pans. But most of all she could feel her stomach, this tightness that felt like a fist was curled around her waist and squeezing as hard as it possibly could.

Santana bent down close to her, she kissed her cheek softly before leaning into Quinn's ear, "We love you Quinn," she whispered.

Before Quinn could ask anything, two nurses and a doctor had sprawled into the room, followed by her mother.

"Baby," Judy was saying as she tried to control her leaking eyes, "Oh thank you god,"

Quinn felt her body still as one of the nurses began fumbling with the IV drip beside her bedside.

"Miss Fabray," a man smiled, "My name is Doctor Collingway, I was here when you were brought through emergency. Do you remember that?"

"Yes," she murmured, although everything was still a little blurry.

Quinn locked her eyes on her mother.

_Make it go away Mum, make all the pain go away._

Dr Collingway glanced at Judy, "Quinn I need to explain some information to you, is there anything you need before I do so? How's the pain?"

Quinn wasn't stupid, she knew her body, and she could feel it. She knew what he was going to say before he'd even thrown the medical terminology in her face.

"Quinn," he began, edging closer to her bedside, "You have suffered a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, or what we also call a haemorrhage, due to the extent of your bleeding it was necessary that we operated," he paused slightly to make sure she was taking this in, Quinn was still staring at her mother.

"The procedure we performed," he continued, "Is called a dilation and curettage or a D&C, we gave you anaesthesia and we dilated your cervix,"

Quinn felt sick, she didn't want this imagery, and she didn't understand what they had done to her.

"Quinn it was a very simple procedure to vacuum the uterine lining. It was needed because the pregnancy posed as a threat to your health, there was a complication with severe blood loss, but we've controlled the bleeding and I will prescribe you antibiotics for two weeks,"

Quinn stared at the doctor as he spoke words she couldn't even comprehend. She just wanted a simple answer.

"So that's it," she asked, "I'm not pregnant anymore?"

The doctor stared back at her, realising that this was a sixteen year old, and that all she wanted was yes or no. He held her gaze a moment, before placing down the clipboard and raising his chest.

"Quinn, you suffered a miscarriage, you are no longer pregnant,"

Quinn refused to take her eyes off her mother. In the entire time she had just kept staring at her. Judy's lips were quivering, her eyes swollen; it looked like she'd been crying for hours.

"Quinn," the doctor was saying again, "We have counselling available; it might also be nice to hold a memorial for your child?"

Quinn wanted to be sick, her child? But her child wasn't inside her anymore. It hadn't had the chance to properly grow; it hadn't had the chance to live in this world.

Was this her fault?

The doctor was telling her it wasn't her fault, but why did she feel as though it was.

She didn't understand, nothing made any sense other than the fact the baby inside her, had left. It had abandoned her. How could it do that? She never once had wanted to abandon it; she never once said it couldn't grow inside her body anymore. Why had Brittany curled into Santana to hide her tears, and why was Santana biting her lip to stop herself from breaking down? Why was her mother talking to the nurse about counselling arrangements? Where was the baby? She had planned to give the baby to the nice family on Batemans Road, Mr and Mrs Kawaski. Mrs Kawaski was infertile, and she couldn't have children. She was a nice lady. Now Quinn had gone and lost the one thing she had promised to give them. This was her fault. This had all along, been all her fault.


	3. Chapter 2

Little Readers!

So some slight adjustments to Quinn's pregnancy yes, however I just want to explore the feelings of 'loss' with Quinn, because the show never actually covered that (watch them do it in season three haha)

Anyway Little Readers... talk to me! 'belikecourtney' on twitter!

I want to know your thoughts! What do you want to see? Speak up! :)

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 2<strong>

High School, Sophomore Year

_Measure your life in the things you've gained, not the things you've lost_

Sometimes you can imagine mistakes are like windstorms, sometimes they overlap each other. They twist inwards and outwards and fold into each other because there's nothing else to do. Quinn never thought that it would happen to her, it was just a normal party at Puck's. Everyone was there; everyone was always at these things.

So was alcohol.

Santana had begged her to do tequila shots and Quinn never said no.

Why hadn't she just said no?

Because the next thing she remembers is waking up naked in Puck's bed.

Four weeks later she had been sitting in Planned Parenthood being told that she was definitely pregnant.

It was raining.

Lima, Ohio was nearly always hot. The weather was almost always dry and warm, with the sun beating down on your face, making your skin golden if you tanned well, or pink and burnt if you didn't wear sunscreen. Today was one of those exception days, one of those days when the clouds decided they just wanted to let loose all the bottled tears. Sometimes Quinn wished it would rain forever, rain as hard as it possibly could and then wash away all the cities. Wash away everything that didn't feel right. Sometimes Quinn wished it would rain so much that she couldn't see what was in front of her, she could stand in the storm and cry and no one would notice because they would think her tears were raindrops. She knows this won't happen though. It could rain forever but it doesn't mean that things would wash away. What's done is done, and everything she now knows is staying, it's staying changed and there's not a single thing she could do about it.

Dr Collingway discharged her from the hospital not even an hour after his discussion with her. Quinn had stayed silent the entire way home, she had stayed silent that entire night, the next morning and the next four days after, and now as she sat in Ms Emma Pillsburys office, her school counsellor, she continued to stay silent. Sometimes silence was just easier, just easier because all the words to describe this pain wouldn't come out. They just wanted to stay locked above her heart pressing harder and harder each day she woke up.

Mr Schuester had suggested she see Ms Pillbury. Quinn didn't really understand the difference. She had been seeing her ever since she found out she was pregnant, only now she was going to be discussing a miscarriage? Silence sounded so much better.

"Quinn?" Emma asked, wiping the corner of her desk with a tissue for the fifth time in the past ten minutes, she seemed to just clean things.

Quinn wondered if maybe she could clean her too.

"Quinn how are your classes since coming back? Have you caught up on the work load?"

Quinn continued to stare at the oak desk in front of her, watching the lines twist themselves across the top, they intertwined; they were linked together. She wondered if she had ever been intertwined with Puck, if what they had done wasn't just sex. She'd made a lot of stupid mistakes in the past six months. She had dumped Finn, who had been her boyfriend since junior school, she had dumped him because he'd joined Glee Club and that was social suicide. Then Coach Sylvester had asked she, Santana and Brittany to join Glee Club as spies, but all of a sudden Quinn had fallen in love with the class. Mr Schuester could see right through her, right through the charade that made everyone believe she wanted to be popular, when really all she wanted was acceptance. Glee Club accepted her, they were the only people in the entire school who hadn't turned their back, when she started to show a baby bump.

The biggest mistake was sleeping with Puck, not because she was drunk, but because she didn't love him, she just wanted to get back at Finn for screwing up their perfect relationship status, and even then it wasn't perfect, because she had never been able to admitt to herself that she wasn't in love with him in the first place.

Is this what's suppose to happen at this age? All these thoughts and feelings? She'd didn't know who she was. She didn't know who she was and she was desparately trying to find her place in this world. She just wanted to be good at something.

"Quinn, I know that you don't want to talk, but I think it might be a good idea to start with how your day is going today?"

Quinn looked at Ms Pillsbury, she was such a nervous woman, she had these bright wide eyes that seem to leap out at you, even if you werent saying anything all that interesting.

"Nothing happened today," Quinn replied, "Coach Sylvester won't let me back on the Cheerios, Mr Schuester makes me watch performances rather than be in them, and I failed my maths test,"

Emma bit her lip, "Quinn you went through a horrific…."

"It was never my baby," she said fiercily, "I was always giving it away,"

She felt sick again. To talk about it like it was a set of house keys. Like she'd lost her damn house keys and couldn't work out where they had gone. Or like she had accidently bought the wrong top at a store and instead of taking it back she was just going to give it away.

_This had been a baby. _

She had been pregnant.

She had fallen prgenant at sixteen, tried to hide it from her parents only to have them find out. The moment she sat down and confessed this to her parents, she had seen the light leave their eyes. She had never seen her father look more dissappointed. That's what hurt the most, knowing that she'd dissapointed them, knowing that there was nothing she could do to take it back.

She thought about it though, about having an abortion, about just making it disappear. One afternoon, she had sat on the bleachers on the oval, sat there and sobbed until tears had stained the cheerio's unifrom she would grow out of if she didn't do something about the pregnancy. Kurt had found her. He had sat down, offered a peppermint and then told Quinn that he knew she was pregant. Everything went in slow motion then, he had spoken and Quinn had listened, and by the end of it, he had told her, that no matter what she does, people were always going to talk and people were always going to judge, but this had happened, this had happened and she needed to grow up.

Kurt had mentioned Mr and Mrs Kawaski, and before she was even three months pregnant, she had already signed adoption papers, now instead of being a knocked up teenager, she got to be someone making a difference for a couple that hadnt been able to achieve their dream.

Now she had failed them.

Quinn looked to her hands in her lap. When she was nervous, or scared or in pain, she would always hold her hands together, she would pretend that someone else's hand was there, not just her own, pretend that someone was holding her hand. She just wanted someone to fit, someone's hand to fit in hers.

"Quinn," Ms Pillsbury was now saying, trying to draw her back out from her thoughts, "Quinn you will heal. It will take time, but I promise that no one is irreversibly broken,"

The words rushed at her, _irreversibly broken. _

Quinn felt so broken right now, as though she had been on a shelf, watching her life go by beneath her, and then all of a sudden someone had pushed her, someone had pushed her and she had shattered, shattered so much that she didn't know who was clever enough, or brave enough to put her back together again. Was this pain reversible? Could she ever get back to a point in her life when she had been happy? At this point, she didn't even know what happiness was.

"It was nice that you held a memorial," Ms Pillsbury tried again; she was being so tentative, so tentative because Quinn was like a ticking time bomb that might explode at any minute.

In response Quinn felt her lips start to quiver. The entire memorial she had stood still, stood still with Santana's arm wrapped around her as her mother spoke about the gift heaven had just received. Is that where her baby had gone? It hadn't had the chance to be someone though, how would god allow it into heaven, if even Quinn had never met it, she didn't even know if the baby had been a boy or a girl, she hadn't wanted to know, because the Kawaski's hadn't wanted to know.

Her mother had handed her a white balloon, attached to a long silver string and told Quinn to let it go. She had without even thinking. Then she had watched it, she had watched it float high into the sky and disappear amongst the clouds. That was meant to be her letting go, if the baby had floated away why hadn't it taken all the pain with it? Quinn didn't want this pain; she didn't want to feel anymore. Numbness would be a much better alternative.

**. . . **

Quinn closed her locker door, holding the binder folder in her arms as she turned to make her way to the music rooms. She felt something brush her shoulder, turning slightly she rolled her eyes as Rachel Berry was suddenly standing before her.

"I don't want your two cents treasure trail; I've had enough of this day,"

Rachel seemed to take her attack in the same way she usually did, with ease. Almost like she was so used to Quinn's insults it didn't faze her anymore.

"I was just letting you know that Glee Club and I are singing something for you,"

Sometimes when Rachel Berry looked at her, she felt this tick just above her chest, like maybe this person could see right through the wall Quinn so strategically placed around herself every day. Some days it scared her, other days, like today, it just aggravated her.

"Well as long as you stand up the back, so I can't see you, I'll be fine,"

Rachel sighed before moving around her, and bouncing up the hall. Quinn was still annoyed that she was now with Finn, as if life couldn't get any more backwards and Rachel Berry was dating her ex.

"Can I speak to you?"

Quinn stilled as Puck stepped out from the corner and blocked her pathway to the music rooms. For god's sake she just wanted the day to be over, she just wanted to crawl into her bed, wrap the sheets around her body and close her eyes as tightly as possible until she passed out.

Quinn nodded slightly; he'd lost a piece of him too hadn't he? She allowed him to guide her to the small bench just outside the science labs, and sit her down. He curled his hands together over his lap, not sure whether to reach for her hand or place his arm around her. He hadn't been sure how to approach Quinn ever since he had found out she was pregnant.

"How are you?" he asked.

Why is it, that every time an obvious situation presents itself, people ask the one question they already know the answer too.

_How are you? Are you okay? How are you feeling?_

Are they just questions asked, when you know the person will answer _fine_, even if they're really not? They'll answer fine because maybe they don't want to answer how they're really feeling, and that's why you've asked it, because you wouldn't know what to do with a truthful answer either.

Quinn looked at him, she looked at Puck, and for the first time in a while, she decided to tell the truth.

"I feel wrong," she murmured, "I feel like this is my fault, like this is all my fault,"

Puck looked at her, his words lost, he didn't know how to deal with this, it hurt, it hurt so much to see her like this, to see her in so much pain.

"It's not your fault," he whispered.

Where do you go when you're too young to comprehend that you're life has changed, yet you understand that nothing will ever be the same again.

He was old enough to feel the pain wasn't he? Old enough to know that a small life had been lost, and there was nothing that either of them could do about it.

"It's gone," Quinn said quietly, "It's over, there's no more baby, so do me a favour will you, just let me get on with my life, I don't want to talk about it anymore,"

Puck nodded, watching as Quinn stood up and walked away from him. Everyone dealt with grief differently, everyone dealt with change differently, but usually the ones that bottled things up, will eventually explode later, and he hoped to god Quinn didn't crumble when that happened.

Maybe the reason Quinn liked being in Glee Club so much, was because it brought out sides of her that she never knew existed. She was softer, she smiled more, and she felt warmer. Christ even Santana had managed to soften and Quinn had known her as a hard ass for the majority of her life.

Waking into the room, she sat on the same chair just near the piano, next to Kurt, who was looking at her as though he wanted to say something.

"Don't," Quinn muttered.

He shrugged imperceptibly, "I didn't say anything,"

"You didn't have to,"

"Well there you go," he smiled softly.

Quinn had never expected to be friends with Kurt Hummel, in fact she was the one who had slushied him, the moment she found out he was gay. But then she joined Glee Club, and she saw the voice that came out of him. She saw his intentions and everything that no one else could see. He had been there for her from the start, when Santana had come out and told Brittany she was in love with her, and Brittany had admitted the same, and suddenly her two best friends were in a relationship and Quinn felt like she had no one, because she had never actually had an in-depth conversation with Finn. Kurt had helped the three of them, in some ways he had healed them, they weren't as angry anymore.

God she needed him to heal her again.

"Quinn," Mr Schuester said walking into the room, he dragged a seat to the middle of the classroom floor, "Quinn come here,"

She frowned slightly, but obeyed none the less.

Mr Schuester smiled tentatively at her, placing her on the seat and then addressing the rest of her classmates.

"We're aware of what has happened these past few days' guys, we don't need an explanation or any prompting, you know what to do,"

Rachel was already on her feet, she had that look that Quinn hated but was confused over at the same time, that look to say, _I know who you really are_.

"Quinn," she said bravely, "Glee Club has something we'd like to say to you,"

Quinn felt her brow crease as they stood up, they formed a circle around her and suddenly the piano resounded just to her left.

The only sound that Quinn could hear were the words that she had been wanting all along.

_Some-times in our lives,  
>We all have pain.<br>We all have sorrow._

She was in pain, she was still grieving for something she had never wanted but then had lost all the same. This pain was something she had never dealt with before. It was physical pain, how sometimes late at night, her stomach would cramp and she'd reach down and the slight bump would no longer be there. The sorrow of knowing that even if she was so young, she still felt protective of that child inside her, and now there was no one to protect. Really though, all she had ever wanted was someone to protect her.

_But, if we are wise  
>We know that there's always tomorrow.<em>

How can you be so wise when you're still so young? Everyone always says that when you grow up you'll know and you'll learn, but what most people don't realise, is that sometimes adults still don't know either.

_Lean on me  
>When you're not strong,<em>

She wasn't strong right now. She felt weak and out of place and all she wanted was to fast forward time, fast forward time to a moment when all this was just a distant blur.

_And I'll be your friend.  
>I'll help you carry on,<em>

These were her friends. They were her friends because even if she'd make a mistake, they were promising her, they would love her, no matter what.


	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

High school Sophomore year

_There are so many things to express, yet so few people take the time to listen_

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><p>There are so many things people could say about miscarriages. About what it's like, about the feelings and the motions you go through after that. Only every story is different. Quinn had been cleaned out, the baby filtered out of her body in clots and tissue and a tiny little body that hadn't had the chance to form properly. She didn't want to imagine it happening, and she had thanked god that because of how much blood she had lost she had passed out. The other night she had joined some stupid forum on the internet to write random drabbles of feelings. It had been Kurt's idea. But she didn't know what to say. Here were woman mourning the loss of the child they had wanted so badly. Quinn had been sitting at a screen, knowing that she had never wanted a baby in the first place. Not yet, not at this age.<p>

Did that make her a bad person? Did that make her a sinner, for having these thoughts?

Filing through a handful of students, she kept her head down as she walked the length of the hall towards the library. Her life was set in motions right now, she was barely holding on. She couldn't talk to her mother; she couldn't talk to her friends, christ she couldn't even talk to her school counsellor because she felt so ashamed. Mr and Mrs Kawasaki had been devastated, Quinn had thought that they had been more devastated than what she had been, and the baby had been inside her. Christ she felt so god damn wrong.

Quinn sat down and drew out a piece of paper. Her body still felt numb. The library was quiet today. She liked it better this way; it was easier just to sit by herself without having people in her classes stare at her. There were so many different types of staring, the _concerned stare_, the _sympathetic stare_, and her favourite, the _you deserved it_ stare. Opening her maths book, Quinn stared at the list of practise questions, she didn't get them; she would never get maths. She cleared the desk, moving a set of textbooks that had been left at the desk she had sat down at, as she did so a piece of paper fell out onto the wooden surface before her. Quinn went to brush it aside before something caught her eye; _words_.

Sometimes words hold more to them than pictures. They hold more to them because words always come from someone, someone says them or writes them, but either way they come from inside them, from inside their hearts. Words on a page, is like seeing someone's heart laid out before you.

These words rushed at her.

_No one cares._

Curiously Quinn opened the paper further, and read.

_I feel like a ghost, walking down these corridors with everyone staring at me like they see straight through me. I just want to know if someone feels the same way. Am I the only person who feels this way?_

Quinn picked up her bio, and then set it back down again, and then re picked it up and held it caught between her fingers. She bit her lip slightly, before scrawling words of her own.

_You're not alone. Sometimes I feel like the loneliest person in the world, even if I'm surrounded by a crowd of people._

She rolled her eyes at herself pushing the paper back into the textbook and to the corner of the desk, abandoning her stupidity she continued to glare at the algebra problem, everything just hurt, and now her brain had been added to the list. She couldn't do this. Life was too hard right now, she just wanted to disappear.

**. . .**

Quinn returned to the same desk as yesterday. She liked this desk, it sat by the window and she could watch the football field. At the moment she could see Brittany and Santana doing laps, she smirked slightly, clearly Sue Sylvester had caught them in the gym again, wonders would never cease with those two lately. She pulled her books from her bags, heaving them onto the desk. She frowned gently, those textbooks were still here, only that piece of paper now sat poking out of the binder, she swore she'd slotted the whole damn thing back inside. Gingerly Quinn glanced over her shoulder. The only person within ten feet of her was a freshman, with his nose not even inches away from a home science textbook. She pulled the piece of paper from the binder and opened it. Her eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity.

_Surrounded by people who think they know you but they don't. Have you ever just wanted to scream at the world? Let them know who you are? Sometimes I'm not sure if anyone would want to listen…_

Quinn grabbed her pen before she even had the chance to process what she was doing.

_I'll listen to you._

_If you want me to. _

_Scream your thoughts to me, you can show me who you are…_

She shoved it back into the text book and didn't look at it again. She didn't dare move until she had finished her history essay and the bell had signalled the end of the period. The last thing she had seen from the window was Brittany and Santana collapsing in a heap on the football field and Coach Sylvester pouring the entire ice cooler over them. Walking from the library, Santana's spanish outburst was heard through the open windows.


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

High School Sophomore Year

_An audience full of people who do not understand aren't as valuable as one person who does_

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><p>Do you ever feel as though there aren't enough hours in the day? As though maybe it would be so much easier to live on mars, because a day there is full of 36 hours. There was never enough time, there was never enough time to finish being angry, or finish being sad and then have the rest of the hours to have a good day, a day that didn't suck.<p>

Quinn lay flat on her stomach for the first time in weeks. Lying amongst her pillows on a Saturday afternoon while Kurt sat at her desk, taking pictures of himself with her MacBook.

"Should I get a fringe again?" he asked.

Quinn glanced up from the photo's she had been looking at and shook her head.

"It takes away you masculinity,"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I don't have masculinity,"

"Exactly," she responded, "Which is why you get slushied,"

She ignored his pout and continued to stare at the photographs she had found. Ms Pillsbury suggested she try come spring cleaning, "_Cleanse your bedroom, your place of comfort, your nest,"_ she had quipped while polishing her damn water bottle, _"Maybe feeling clean will help you heal too,"_

Quinn had thought it was absolutely ridiculous, particularly considering all it had achieved was Kurt insisting that if he was to help clean 'her nest' he was going to refer to her as little bird. He had been using the name all morning. Quinn had found her family album amongst the clutter under her bed. She was now staring at the photos of her family's vacation to Florida when she had been eleven, before her sister had been married to an oil heir and packed up to move to Greece. The four of them were standing huddled together on Miami Beach, smiling. Her father was laughing at her because she had ice-cream on her nose. Quinn scanned her eyes over the three people in the background. She suddenly found herself wondering who they were, what their purpose in Miami had been. Were they holidaying too? On a business trip, running away or coming home? How many photos had she been a background figure in? Was someone in the world staring at her right now? Wondering what her story was?

"Santana you didn't have to trip her over,"

Quinn looked up as Santana followed Brittany into the room.

"Britts, she suggested we sing Do-Re-Mi for regionals wearing dresses made of newspaper, I think the slushies have frozen her brain," Santana responded crawling onto Quinn's bed and ruffling her hair to say hello.

Quinn bit her lip, Santana and Brittany had been spending so much time collaborating different assignments and song routines with Rachel lately, she didn't understand, these were her friends, not Rachel's.

"Well maybe you should stop throwing them in her face?" Kurt responded.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Kurtastical it's harmless, I have to keep something normal don't I, it's bad enough we're having regular meetings at her house,"

"God Santana," he huffed, "Sometimes I want to be around you all the time and other times I just want to…."

"Don't," Brittany sighed, rolling next to Quinn, "There's too much to think about other than the changing status quo at school,"

Santana grinned leaning over Quinn to kiss Brittany, "You're so smart baby," she whispered.

Quinn frowned as Kurt had stilled.

"What?" she asked, "What's with that face? As if you've never seen these two and PDA, they're practically award winners"

Brittany flushed red.

"No," Kurt responded shaking his head, "Little B," and Quinn softened at the mention of her new nickname, "You didn't flinch when Santana leant over you,"

"Oh christ," Santana responded, moving off Quinn's back, "Q, I'm sorry,"

Quinn smiled weakly, "It didn't hurt," she whispered and Kurt nodded,

"See," he shrugged, "You are healing,"

Saturday afternoons lately had been spent in Quinn's bedroom, because her mother wanted her near the house at all possible times, short of feeling like a prisoner, Quinn had just obeyed anyway. Mostly she didn't want to be anywhere other than here, in the safety of her bedroom, where no one could touch her. No one could hurt her here. Was this normal to feel like this? She use to believe the world was her oyster, that it would never hurt her, but things happen and people change and suddenly all you want is closed in walls where nothing can reach you. Kurt knew how to break down those walls though, and Santana and Brittany, well they'd always seen straight through Quinn anyway.

_"Don't be dramatic,"_ Santana had argued on the phone the other night, "_If you're refusing to step out of your damn house, we'll bring the breadsticks to you,"_

_"Ask her about Sweet Valley high,"_ Brittany had said in the background.

_"Baby,"_ Santana had whined before returning back to Quinn, "Can Britts bring Sweet Valley?"

Quinn had all but managed a yes, she was silently crying so much because she didn't know how in god's name she deserved friends like this.

Kurt had returned his attention back to the screen, and it became clear that Mercedes had signed into Skype.  
>"Diva," she yelled, "Solo's discussion, tell me what you got,"<p>

Quinn smiled as Kurt launched into his list, that he'd been making since the beginning of the year.

Santana and Brittany were laughing over something when they were supposed to be designing costumes and Quinn had begun to write her letter to Mr Schuester, begging him to let her perform again. She'd worked for regionals too; she'd worked and planned just like everyone else, why should she sit in the audience, just because this had happened. Most days she'd have these wars in her head, and would always come back to the same thought that _this had happened_, it had happened and she still felt so sick and sad about it.

_Dear Mr Schuester,_

Quinn bit her lip, remembering what he had said the other day after class, "_Quinn, I want you well again, it's best if you concentrate on your needs right now. I don't want any added stress,"_

Quinn had stormed from the music rooms. Glee Club wasn't stress, it was a release. Stress was having Rachel Berry hand her the history homework and notes she was behind on, to which still puzzled Quinn because she had done nothing short of tease the shit out of the girl since grade school.

"Kurtastical," Santana said from the floor, "Give me your attention,"

Mercedes rolled her eyes from the screen, "Since when does anyone not give you attention Satan,"

"Oh Wheezy" Santana grinned, "I thought I sensed you,"

Santana smirked at Mercedes pout before holding up her sketch, "Classy?"

Kurt placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head, "More colour," he demanded to which Santana scowled.

Quinn grinned as Brittany handed her the Crayola's and kissed Santana's nose.

A while ago Quinn use to believe that she had everything, that being popular was everything, that having everyone know you, and everyone want to be you was the most important thing in high school. Not too long ago, she realised that maybe these weren't the most important things. Coach Sylvester had stripped her of cheerio's captain the moment she found out she had been pregnant, "Jesus preggers," she had said staring at her, "Change out of that uniform at once,"

Quinn had cried in the front seat of her Jeep for the rest of the day. What was she supposed to do now, how the hell was she supposed to find where she fit in this damn school?

Glee had saved her. Glee was always saving her lately.

Maybe high school doesn't change, maybe the real world is just as disillusioned as what students are, thinking that everything runs perfectly smooth until you crack open the bonnet and realise that most peoples parts are missing. Someone's stolen them, someone's misplaced them, or that person just can't find the right tools to get their hearts started again. She needed someone to reach into her bonnet and fix the parts that weren't working anymore. Quinn just wanted to be whole again. She wondered whether people would like each other more if everyone could see inside each other. Read what another was thinking without doing all the ground work first, without having to force the truth out of a person, you could just see what words their hearts were beating to. Quinn had always just wondered if people could see her the way she saw herself, they might treat her differently, they might be more gentle with her, they might even realise that she's not as strong or as tough as everyone thinks she is.

"Q?"

Quinn looked up to see Kurt kneeling beside her, "You know sometimes you disappear so far into your thoughts I wish there was some way we could all follow you,"

"No one will ever get into my thoughts," she murmured.

"Someone will one day," Santana responded and Quinn instantly saw the way Santana had looked at Brittany.

_Maybe. _

**. . .**

Third period had become a need. She had stopped asking Coach Sylvester to put her back on the Cheerio's all because she doubted she could live without spending third period in the library. Quinn pushed past the aisles and slunk into her desk. She had marked the corner with one of those slanted m's to represent a bird. _Little birds_ desk she had decided. No one dare take this desk from her in third period; she would physically remove them. Placing her textbooks to the side, she pulled the binder that had already been left there and opened the front page. Sure enough, the piece of paper sat with scrawled words. She smiled slightly.

This was her comfort.

Not counselling, not her mother coming into her room late at night to check if she was still sleeping soundly, and not having nightmares. It was these small letters that had gradually turned from sentences to paragraphs.

She unfolded it, and read what had been written to her today.

_Do you ever feel as though you deserved to lose something? As though it was taken from you for a particular reason? Sometimes I feel like I lose things that were never mine. That it happened because it was supposed to and there's not anything I can do about it. I'm holding onto something right now, but my heart tells me I should let it go, let it go because it doesn't belong to me. It never has, it wants something different…_

Quinn thought on this a moment, whoever this was, sometimes they said things that hit so close to her heart, she would literally reach up to grab her chest. As Quinn went to scrawl her reply, she realised that her hand had clasped tightly at her heart.

_Does it hurt to hold on? Is the pain worth all that holding on? Because if it hurts, if you can't heal or fix yourself by holding on, then maybe you should let it go, let the pain go_

She paused briefly, in some ways she was answering her own questions, was this self-therapy?

_The pain will ease, whenever I'm in pain, I listen to music, I listen to the lyrics of people that have decided to let go of that pain, it helps, I promise music heals you…_

Quinn folded the piece of paper and slotted it into the binder. She pulled her phone and her headphones from her backpack almost immediately. Music did heal her, but this persons words were healing her too. Right now, Quinn didn't know what she wanted or how she felt, because most days her body and mind were like this constant disarray of mixed emotions. Like when she would laugh at something Brittany would say in home room, but then close her mouth immediately because she wasn't sure if it was too soon to laugh at things. It was difficult to say what she meant to people, because no one understood, no one knew this pain. All she wanted to do was express what she needed to, but how can you do that when your audience doesn't understand what you mean.

This person did.

This person with words as carefully crafted as hers, knew the person she was trying to be. Quinn didn't know whether to feel relieved, or sceptical or scared. But the more she thought about it, she realised she was more scared to lose whoever was responding to her.


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

High school, Sophomore Year

_With eyes wide shut, I can't see you, I can only see your words_

* * *

><p><em>Did you like my list of songs? I liked yours; I spent all night downloading them to my iTunes. I promise I've never had a playlist so long! How's your day so far? I think about you all the time, whoever you are…<em>

Quinn smiled lightly. This person loved Edward Sharpe; this was definitely her type of person. Sometimes she would pause before putting her pen to paper. She wondered which of them would ask that question that was always being avoided, even after weeks of writing to each other. _What's your name?_

Quinn wondered if she would answer that, she wondered if she even wanted to answer that.

_I loved your list of songs. My day is okay so far, I woke up feeling better, I woke up wanting to be awake, that's normal isn't it? I wanted to get out of bed today. I think about you too, I think about how you leave these letters to me, about how I'm always excited to get them. Tell me how you are, do you still feel invisible?_

Sometimes you find someone in this world that makes you feel more alive than you've ever felt before. Should there be limitations on who this person is? What justifies a person becoming someone you can't live without, when you've never really lived with them in the first place? Quinn stared at the handful of letters that had grown every day and been stored away in the binders of a mathematics textbook. Number's had been replaced with words. Some days she came to find paragraphs upon paragraphs. Some days there were small sketches scribbled in the corners and margins of the paper. Flowers, smiling faces and swirls but all Quinn wanted to see were hearts. Was it too soon for that? She didn't even know who this person was, what they looked like, if they were even a student. She assumed they were, they had all the same worries and concerns of a person that was learning to grow up. Sometimes she felt stupid, she felt ridiculous continuing to write back, because what if this was dangerous, what if this would lead to something catastrophic that she couldn't control? But then Quinn felt her heart racing every time she opened the binder to see what had been left for her. Was this okay? Was she allowed to feel this way? It felt so damn good, and she hadn't felt like this in such a long time.

These letter's had made her realise how much she loved words. God Quinn loved words; she loved thinking about them and then writing them down. About how some words fit more than others, about how words were just like people, how they fit in certain ways that just made a sentence so much more alive. Most of all she thought about how all the right words could transform someone, or hundreds of people. Words hurt, but they also heal and they present things to you in ways that sometimes change the way you feel. Even more so, she loved how sometimes, you could come across a word, or a sentence of words, written by someone else in a different lifetime, or half way across the world, and for a split second you felt connected to them, connected to their thoughts. It's almost as if you've gone back in time, almost as if you're touching base with someone you've never met before. Was this what she was doing? Connecting? Quinn stared at the words before her, half of her told her to put the pen down, but her heart kept fighting to write more words.

"Quinn you spend nearly every third period in this library?"

Quinn jumped so abruptly she felt her knees hit the under surface of the desk. She cringed as the pain shot through her knee caps. Thank god she was actually writing her history essay and not suggesting love songs to her pen pal- _god calling them that was so clique_. Ms Pillsbury stood beside the desk, her handbag slung on her shoulder, an overly bright cardigan nearly blinding Quinn. Maybe this was the best thing about where this desk was, tucked away in the corners of the library beside the history section and just left of the biology aisle. The books were so old around her, she could smell their musk, and then if she ever needed fresh air, she would lift the window just in front of her and smell pollen from outside. She could see Santana and Brittany all the time, and it gave her comfort, knowing they were just outside. Some days she could hear Coach Sylvester's bellowing insults, and other days the glass windows kept her voice out. She was so hidden, no one ever disturbed her, except her school counsellor who always managed to find her in any given situation.

"I have a lot of study," Quinn responded sheepishly, this was a lie, she'd already caught up on nearly everything, she was just searching for excuses.

"Ms Sylvester still not letting you back on the Cheerio's?"

Quinn bit her lip, only time would tell.

Santana had devised a plan, which she was refusing to tell for at least another two weeks, but she seemed to think Quinn would be back before the sophomore year was out.

"_Relax Q, you won't get back on the squad if you've developed wrinkles,_" she said the other day while they sat on the bleachers.

Brittany had bounded over and curled into Santana's lap, _"San's right Q, just leave it to us, we got you,"_

Christ sometimes when Quinn looked at them, it was almost as if they had just been together all their lives. They had, so to speak, but not like this, not in the way Santana would stare at Brittany as though she was the only thing worth looking at.

Quinn wondered what the person in her letter's looked like. What their eyes looked like, their smile, their lips, what they would feel like. Can you love someone with your eyes closed? Can you love someone with just the beats of your heart every time you think about them?

"Quinn?"

Quinn jumped again and realised Ms Pillsbury was still standing next to her, "Where do you go?"

"Pardon?"

"With that far away gaze, you're very fascinating Quinn,"

Quinn shrugged, that was either a creepy comment or a backwards compliment.

"I don't know," she shrugged; she never knew where she disappeared to.

"Well if you need anything," Emma smiled and Quinn nodded, watching her walk away.

She needed a lot of things right now, mostly she needed to come down from the sky; she just needed to keep her feet on the ground. But sometimes Quinn felt that floating away was just safer.

**. . .**

_Three days on_

Quinn stared at the hand drawn eyes in front of her. This person knew how to draw now as well? She glanced at the words beneath the small sketch.

_I keep thinking what your eyes would look like. So I drew you mine, because some mornings I wake up wishing I could just come to school and stare at your eyes all day…_

Jesus Christ

Quinn had to put the paper down, she thought her heart was going to catapult straight out of her chest. How did they know what she wanted? She stared at those eyes, and felt her tongue run along her lips. God what was happening? This couldn't be a guy, it just couldn't. Their words were too sensitive, too intricately constructed, and now this? Quinn didn't care though, and that scared her. It scared her because it didn't bother her, she just knew that this person made her smile, and laugh out loud in the middle of the stupid library. With just a handful of words they had managed to capture her complete attention. Quinn took her phone and captured the eyes on the screen. She wanted them to be the last thing she saw before going to sleep tonight.

* * *

><p><em>Find the following solution to 3 + 2 * 5x(y + 1)<em>

Quinn wanted to punch something, she couldn't resist turning to the back of the book and just copying the damn answer. Why were there never any songs in the universe to describe the pain of algebra? She would most definitely put together a play list. She had come home this afternoon to find her mother hosting one of her patchwork parties. Her mother was a lawyer, who enjoyed patchwork and quilting, Quinn didn't even know how that worked. She loved her parents, nothing would ever change that, and they had supported her in everything she had ever done. But since everything that had happened, all she felt from them was disappointment, so instead of speaking to them, it was easier just to avoid them. Was that what a family was supposed to be like? Surface material; where nothing got spoken about?

Quinn had walked in the door and spent forty minutes with middle aged women gushing over her. _"Oh Quinnie,"_ they had soothed, to which she hated because only her grandfather still called her that, _"Such a brave girl you're being,"_

She really hated it. She hated it so much because she still felt guilty. Ms Pillsbury had said she would go through this. She had said Quinn would feel all these different feelings at different stages.

"_You will forget some days Quinn, you'll wake up and think that it never happened; and then other days it will be the only thing you can think about,"_

"_When will I feel normal again?"_ she had asked, the same way she asked herself in the mirror every morning.

But Ms Pillsbury hadn't answered her, how could she have an answer for something that should never be measured in anything other than time?

Quinn closed her eyes briefly; she was in the stars again, lost across a universe of dreams she was still trying to hold onto. What if everything you thought you could be wasn't good enough? What if the world wanted more? She opened her eyes again, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light of her desk lap and her blinking computer screen.

"Quinn!"

She glanced at her screen and smirked, it had become a promise at the beginning of the year, that she would remain signed into Skype, so Santana could always reach her first hand.

Quinn moved her laptop so she could see her. This was the time she liked Santana the most, the time when the guard was completely down, she wasn't fronting for people she still thought she needed to fight. She didn't realise how far she had come this year, she didn't realise that this was exactly the direction heading into the final two years of high school that she should be. Hoodie on, hair messy because she'd more than likely been asleep, or well, with Brittany and her make was minimal, Santana didn't realise that she didn't need it.

"Have you done question 4?"

Quinn glanced down at her homework pages which were very blank, and she bit her lip.

"God Q!" Santana mumbled, "I was relying on your answers!"

"Santana" she replied, "Do you honestly think that I am any more good at maths then you?"

Santana shrugged, "Well one of us has to suffer for the other, and last week I handed in your biology assignment!"

"Santana you copied the answers off Mercedes!"

She smirked sheepishly, before her mobile started sounding and the screen jolted as she rummaged through her desk to find it.

"Cedes!" Quinn heard her say.

"How do you feel about a months' worth of hand delivered tots?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Santana can you finish with the bribery?"

But Santana was already laughing, "Q," she said slotting into view, "I'll be back later if you're still awake, I need to hear this,"

"Hear what?"

But it was too late, the screen had gone blank and Quinn knew Santana would be on the phone to Mercedes for hours.

She returned to question four, staring at it, as though the solution might just magically appear on the page. She picked up her pen again, and began writing words across the margins of her page.

_Once upon a time there was a boy who lived in a village that no longer exists, where everything you could ever imagine was discovered. A stick could be a sword, a stone could be a diamond, and a tree could be a castle. He lived across the lane from a girl whose hair was golden. They went about collecting the world in handfuls of happiness that was so very rare to find. He was the king and she was the queen and when the sky grew dark they parted ways into the night. Once upon a time there was a little boy, who loved a little girl whose beauty was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering._

Quinn stared at what she'd just written. Is it so wrong to just want to be young forever? To be stuck in the moments where your deepest fear was walking mud through your mother's clean carpets, or not having enough time to jump in all the puddles before you reached your driveway. When does life get so complicated?

There was a slight knock at her door and Quinn looked up to see it open. She stilled as her father stood at the threshold.

"Can I cross?" he asked.

It had been so long since he had stepped into her castle, most days Quinn believed he had built a fort around her and was refusing to climb back in.

She nodded softly; she was trembling, mainly because he hadn't been able to look at her in months. And now suddenly here he was, standing before her, asking if he could speak with her; was she ready for this? Whether she was or not, her father moved into the room, and sat on the edge of Quinn's bed, he gestured for her to do the same.

"I want to tell you a story," he said softly, and Quinn nodded.

She had always had such awe for her father, such awe because he was the only man in the whole universe who had promised to look after her and she had believed him.

"During my second year of college, my professor gave my class a pop quiz. I think you would know how much I breezed through those questions," he smirked slightly, "they were easy, naturally," his wink made Quinn melt, where had her father been all this time?

"However I reached the last one and it asked me, 'Who cleans our school? What is their name?' I laughed at it; I thought it was a printed joke, a trick question. I had seen the cleaning man all of eight times. He was older, white wispy hair, probably in his late sixties and he always wore the same red t-shirt. But how the hell was I supposed to know his name? All I knew is that the other week he had left the tap running in the girls bathrooms and it had flooded the hallways. I crossed the question out and left the answer blank. When class ended, I handed in my paper and stopped before walking out of the classroom. One student had asked our professor if the last question would count in our grade. 'He flooded the bathrooms sir, what a stupid mistake! He failed!' they had argued,"

Her father looked at her, with this sadness in his eyes, this look to say he wanted nothing more than her forgiveness,

"My professor answered with 'most definitely, because in our careers we were going to meet many people, each significant who deserved all our attention and care, even when they make mistakes,' I have never forgotten that lesson Quinn, his name is Ted and from that lesson and every day for the rest of my college years, I made a point to ask him how he was,"

Quinn felt the tears well in the corners of her eyes.

"I failed you as a father," he whispered, "I failed you with a mistake that should never have happened. I abandoned you, in your most crucial time of need, and all I can do is ask for your forgiveness. Sweet heart, I'm so sorry,"

The pieces fell away again, Quinn had done everything she could to hold the fort up, to hold the walls as still as possible. But her father had just crashed back through them, and it was all she could do not to fall into his outstretched arms and sob until the tears just wouldn't fall anymore.


	7. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

High school, Sophomore Year

_The hands on your clock pass each other in beats of hours you choose to consume_

* * *

><p>Lately Quinn had begun to pretend that she was someone important. That she wasn't just a girl, living in a forgotten town in Ohio, that maybe she was someone that could be something. Sometimes she wanted to tell her story to the whole world, write it all down in a book and have everyone believe it was a story worth telling, and then other times she would want to make sure no one ever knew about it. How could she have this huge life story when she was only sixteen? How could she expect anyone to ever understand these feelings if they were just as young as she was? Quinn felt like a box of unspoken words, so much so she wished she could open her skull and let it all escape. Sometimes when it's past midnight, she feels like she is the only person in this world who is awake, she finds herself thinking that maybe she's not just average or ordinary, that maybe she's the person that comes alive when everyone else is awake.<p>

Quinn sat in the library staring at the letter she had just written,

_Sometimes I feel like there's this empty space in me. Sometimes I feel like no one will understand how I'm feeling because they haven't been through the same thing. I feel alone and lost, and then I read your letters. It's like your words are keeping me alive right now…._

She wondered if maybe it was too much, if maybe she should have been more specific, she wanted to tell this person everything, but she was scared. She was scared they wouldn't want to talk to her anymore if they knew the truth. Quinn had decided that nothing will ever burn as bright as broken expectations. Nothing could ever throb as much as knowing that wandering into the stars was a safer reality than knowing the things in her heart, the things that had happened would never be erased. Quinn brushed her fingertips along the ink of this person's handwriting, it lopped artistically, they dotted their _i's_ with bubbles that looked like clouds. She stared at the _X's_ at the bottom of the page, and they made her heart skip beats in ways she didn't even think was possible. Quinn knew how her mind made her tick, she knew that her body had become a steady rhythmic clock, working towards a plan that even she wasn't sure of. She had to get back to how she was before all of this; still, smooth, precise and pristine. She was captain of The Cheerio's; she was running for Junior President next year. She was on the debate team, she was in Glee Club, and she was Quinn Fabray. It was time to be Quinn Fabray again. Who was that? God the question killed her. Had she not just answered it? She stared at the words left for her.

_Did you know that sometimes our hearts deceive us? They bring out the sharpest of silver bladed swords, and cause wars against our minds. Wars that our heart was never prepared to fight, because we're so naïve in thinking we're old enough to know better. Then we get caught off guard, we catch ourselves thinking that maybe there's more to life than the complexities of being young. Would you ever let me tell you all my secrets? Would you ever hold anything against me?_

They had forgotten something though, something that the heart does in times of need, and Quinn felt as though she needed to enlighten them. She crossed out what she had been writing and started again.

_Our hearts sometimes bring shields with them though. _

_A strong enough shield to repel each jab that it suffers. Even if our minds laugh at all the worries and concerns it fills our hearts with and all the false pretences and impossible meaningless thoughts, the heart blocks them sometimes. Some days the heart is strong enough to make all these impossible things seem possible. It pieces itself back together again, even if it has become a puzzle with rigged ends and jagged sides. My heart is a puzzle, a puzzle so misplaced; even I don't know where to start looking. _

_You keep me going though. _

_You. _

_Do you think you could help find my missing pieces?_

_Find my pieces and tell me all your secrets. _

_I'll keep them safe._

Quinn bit her lip staring at what she had just written. God was this too much? It was almost like she was bound to all these letters. She woke up every day because of them. Then each night she would go to sleep knowing she would see another one tomorrow. What if they stopped? What if one day she opened the binder and the letter had not come? Now, in the place inside her mind, she felt as if she was hypnotised as though she was standing on the outside of her body and could see herself falling harder, deeper, faster, in all these bittersweet feelings. But then these words would pull her back out again, and they would help her win the battle. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to know who they were, maybe it might even been an adventure worth exploring.

The bell sounded and Quinn fell back down from the stars in a rush. God she could drift away so easily, she wondered how far down the river her raft would reach before she stopped herself from going over the waterfall. She glanced upwards and smirked, Santana had her face pressed against the glass window. She was kissing the glass panel, while Brittany fogged small patches beside her, and drew love hearts.

Quinn reached for the latch and pulled it open.

"Kurt wants you to meet him on the bleachers," Santana said, arching her back as though she had strained it.

"But we have Glee?"

Brittany shrugged, "It'll only take a minute, and he said it was urgent,"

For Kurt to want to meet with her on the bleachers, causing himself to be late for Glee club, and to also have to venture onto the football field, Quinn was now worried.

"Wrinkles Q!" Santana shot through the window, "We'll tell Schuester you like forgot your locker combination,"

Quinn nodded briefly, pushing her letters into the binder and grabbing her bag.

Perhaps her mind had re-winded like an old cassette tape, but it just wasn't a tape that was worth listening to over again. Maybe she wasn't supposed to go back to being the old Quinn, maybe she had become someone new, and she was supposed to try and get to know them instead. New was always good wasn't it?

_Her person_, as she now referred to them, because all she wanted was for them to be _her person_, left her lyrics written across the pages too. It was like her own tape across lined paper, songs with excitement and simple melodies that she could picture without ever hearing the song in the first place. _Her person_ had laced together lyrics with vowels and sounds, and generic rhymes that presented intelligence and walk down trails for Quinn to follow.

Quinn found Kurt in the mid afternoon sunlight. He sat with his legs crossed staring at two pigeons in disgust.

"You could have just spoken to me outside Glee Club you know,"

Kurt looked at her, "No I wanted somewhere really private,"

Quinn slotted beside him, glancing at Coach Sylvester as she packed away the Cheerio's equipment, and little Becky ran around after her. Maybe that was the only thing in her entire existence that made Sue human, her bond with Becky. It was definitely the only thing that made Quinn look past the insults.  
>"Little B," he said causing her to break away from the stars again, "I'm worried,"<p>

Quinn frowned, "About regionals? Kurt that's not for another month or two, and Jesus Rachel alone would run the whole thing,"

"That's the problem," he sighed, "She's been acting weird lately,"

Quinn smirked, "Rachel Berry is always weird,"

Kurt huffed, "Quinn can you just stop with your grievance with the girl for one moment and listen to me! I know she's annoying, but god damn can she sing, and her voice is just about one of the only things we've truly got behind us this year,"

Quinn folded her arms, "Kurt, Rachel stole Finn…"  
>"No you dumped Finn, and that's exactly what I need to talk to you about,"<p>

Quinn raised her eyebrows, "Kurt please, I don't speak to Finn much anymore, after everything that happened, but I do know that he doesn't hold your feelings for him against you…"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Oh give me credit!" he replied through gritted teeth, "I'll have you know, that Finn confides in me from time to time, especially considering he's still pissed off with Puck,"

Quinn tilted her head to look at him, blinking slightly as the sunlight caught her eyes.

"I'm trying to tell you that even Finn has noticed a change in Rachel. He keeps telling me she isn't herself. He keeps telling me that's she's somewhere else. That she isn't actually there anymore,"

"Maybe she's over him?"

"Little B," Kurt pleaded, "Rachel's gone somewhere and considering your head is always in the stars I was wondering…"

"No," Quinn said suddenly, "There is no way in hell I am going to talk to her, are you kidding me Kurt I can't believe you would ask that!"

Kurt folded his arms, "Why Quinn, why won't you talk to her. Did you know she was the one who organised that song to be sung to you?"

Quinn stilled slightly, remembering back to _lean on me_. Jesus that felt like decades ago, she closed her eyes, not wanting to rewind back to those moments.

"Kurt," she whispered.

"Where are you?" he asked, "Where did Quinn go? When all of this started, when it all happened you decided to be someone different. You decided that kindness was a much better alternative than being angry and selfish. You put us, Glee Club, before yourself. And then you did the strangest thing and befriended me. Where's my best friend gone? Because right now, she is definitely not here,"

Quinn slumped slightly, glaring at him, with his tight jeans and his striped shirt. He always looked so well presented. He was always so adorable she couldn't stand when his face was contorted with anger.

"Just say you'll think about it?"

Quinn took a deep breath, "Okay," she murmured, "I'll think about it,"

He seemed satisfied with that answer, because he reached for her hand and helped her to stand again.

"Mr Schuester thinks we need to learn Broadway numbers,"

Quinn groaned, "This whole lesson will be dedicated to Rachel anyway!"

Kurt looked at her, "Yes and Mr Schuester may very well just let you back dancing with us at regionals, that's what you want isn't it? To be with us?"

Quinn paused a moment, before nodding.

"Well," he shrugged, "You have to give a little to get a little,"

Quinn wondered if she should venture back down the travelled road, she wondered if she should search for those familiar faces. She had been so angry with Finn for wanting to be a part of Glee club, but then she had found why he had wanted it so badly. She had wanted it too. But then, when he had decided to date Rachel, all the anger boiled in her again, it boiled again because Rachel was the annoying over achiever that she and Santana had teased since elementary. When Quinn had found out she was pregnant, she had promised not to be that person anymore. She had promised not to be the person that was everywhere and yet nowhere. For a long time, she had been so afraid of passing someone, and they not giving her so much as a glance. She would be left feeling still and untouched, as though on the inside she was going insane, but on the outside her mechanics were as still as stone. Maybe this time it would be different.

Quinn was on the other side of the tunnel now.

Maybe she wouldn't be the girl with the melting snow racing down her window pane, as she waits on the wrong side of the window again.

Rachel might be just like her.

God almighty how farfetched did that sound.

"Little bird?"

Quinn realised she had followed Kurt all the way from the bleachers to the music rooms, lost in her own thoughts.

"God sometimes you are so far away I don't even think I should open my mouth,"

Quinn smiled weakly, it wasn't her fault, and she couldn't help it, her clarity always became lost to a familiar acquaintance named confusion.

She was sixteen and her best friend was confusion.

When did she meet sure, ready or acceptance?

"Quinn," Mr Schuester smiled as she entered the room behind Kurt, "I have some sheet music for you, and I'd like you to sing with Mercedes today,"

Mercedes threw her hands in the air, "It's about time Schuester, I've been waiting for my piece of the Q!"

Quinn felt herself laugh, as she was dragged by Mercedes over to the piano, she then felt Kurt's eyes on her, not in a way that was overbearing but in a way that was welcoming her back, welcoming her home. The haunting figure of darkness that had evaded her dreams so vividly over these months had suddenly faded, and as Quinn breathed out, she did not shake or tremble, she was still, calm, and like clockwork, she decided to start again.


	8. Chapter 7

So where my little readers at?

You're so quiet at the moment! haha I want inspiration from you! Talk to me !

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Court x

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 7<strong>

High School, Sophomore Year

_What if words hurt as much as stones?_

* * *

><p>Quinn glared at her grade paper.<p>

_C+_

She supposed that was an okay grade for maths. Considering she had avoided nearly all type of study for the quiz and had only just figured out how to calculate the square root of something because Kurt had shown her the correct logic, before the actual quiz was taken.  
>She had gotten an A in her letter so to speak though, because <em>her person<em> had started their response with a smiley face and an _I love your words_.  
>They loved her words? God was that supposed to make her melt?<p>

Quinn began to write her response slowly,

_I only got a C in my maths test. How is it that I really don't care about that and all I care about is seeing that you've written back to me?_

She stared at the letter in front of her and stilled as she read the remaining sentences that _her person_had previously written.

_I thought about what you wrote the other day, about how you're trying to find who you want to be. I guess I'm the same way. I'm trying so hard to figure out if who I am right now is who I want to remain, or whether as I grow up I'm going to change fifty more million times. I think you should reach for whatever you want. If you want something, go and get it. I live my life by always reaching for the things I want to achieve. Don't let anyone tell you no. No should be a word you turn around and say 'well watch me anyway'._

Quinn glanced at The Cheerio's outside. It had nothing to do with the fact that being in that squad still gave you some power connections in the school politics jungle. It had everything to do with the fact she loved being on that team.

Enough was enough.

She scribbled just a few more sentences of her response before slotting it back in the binder with all the others.

_I'm going for what I want. I'm going to demand until they give me what I want. Did I mention that I also want you?_

It was hot today. Not the bearable heat in which you sit out in the sun and enjoy it as it bronzed your skin. This was the type of heat that made you feel as though you were walking around in earth's giant sauna and all you wanted was some relief, but there just wasn't any. Quinn marched directly across the field, to where she could see The Cheerio's forming another pyramid. Christ the amount of times they had done this, Quinn would never forget it, even if she tried.

Sue was screaming through the megaphone, "The Zoo called, they want their dancing monkeys back!"

Quinn stopped next to her, just as Brittany rolled from the pyramid and landed on her feet. Quinn smirked, cat by nature that girl.

"What do you want Q?" Sue asked.

Quinn bit her lip, she wondered if she resented the fact that the name everyone called her had been created by the one person some days she wanted to grab the megaphone from and smack her over the head.

"I want my spot back,"

Sue placed the megaphone by her side and immediately turned to her. Her eyebrows narrowed.

"Did I not make my decision clear? You went and got preggers Q, that's immediate dismissal in my book,"

Quinn felt her cheeks flush red, "And then I went and got a miscarriage, that's immediate reinstatement in my book,"

Sue raised her eyebrows, "Well there's the Q I know,"

"Ms Sylvester, this has been my squad since I was old enough to join, you have to put me back on the squad!"

Sue seemed to smirk at her, "I guess this just depends on what Amber has to say, why don't you ask her how she feels about stepping down from your position Q,"

Quinn felt her eyes travel to where The Cheerio's were now stretching.

Amber Stevens had one leg curled inwards and the other half way over her head.

Quinn gritted her teeth, before marching straight towards the group.

As she approached, a lot of the girls seem to brighten.

"Q!" Brittany grinned bounding over to her.

Quinn smiled at her, "Back me up," she whispered.

Quinn could tell Santana was fretting, she knew that this was somehow probably implicating Santana's plan, but she didn't care, she had to do something.

"Amber," she said addressing her, "I see you've looked after my squad well,"

Amber scoffed, rising to her feet; she was at least half a head taller than Q, long brunette hair, shoulders nearly as built as Noah Puckermans.

"What do you mean your?" she asked, crossing her arms, "This is my squad now Fabray,"

Quinn smirked, "Actually you were temporarily minding it for me,"

"What while you were on maternity leave?"

Quinn gritted her teeth as three girls towards the left of the circle snickered. One she remembered was a transfer from another public school in Detroit. The other two had once put glue in Brittany's hair in elementary.

"Oh wait," Amber said again, "That's right you didn't pop it out. Guess it sucks that you're still left with stretch marks and no baby huh?"

Santana lunged forward, Brittany pushing in between two other girls to pull her backwards.

Quinn felt the heat rise in her cheeks, "Worked out well then I guess, otherwise it would have been too late to rescue the squad. I'm sorry how many competitions have we actually won since my absence?"

Amber's eyes narrowed, "How would you even know stretch marks, you've been off and pregnant,"

It was clear that these words were affecting Santana more than Quinn, because she had her seething face on, the face that suggested she was going to rip Amber's head off.

"Shame Amber, how'd you get my captain spot? Someone leave your cage open?"

That sealed the deal.

Amber started for her, but Quinn's fist was already curled by her side. In moments that happened far too quickly to even register anything, Quinn felt Amber curl a fist of her t-shirt into her fingers, ready to impound the crap out of her. Quinn broke free easily though, and that's when it happened. Amber swung, and just as Quinn tried to duck out of her way, someone pushed her out of the firing line and instead got caught in Amber's fury.

Brittany whimpered as cartilage cracked and she staggered to the ground.

"Britts!" Santana yelled, she pushed past the other girls and immediately pulled Brittany into her arms.

Brittany's nose was bleeding; she gripped her nose in agony as her eyes started watering; she tried so hard not to cry.

Santana rounded on Amber, "Te matará estúpida Puta!"

"San," Brittany whimpered, "My nose San,"

"Baby," she whispered, "Shhh its okay,"

"Enough!" Sue was already barking at them to form an orderly line, "Some babies are dropped on their heads, but all of you were clearly thrown at the wall. There are no cat fights in my squad. Ladies get in the showers! Wash the pigs in pens out of you,"

When some of the girls didn't move, she raised the megaphone to her lips and screamed, "NOW!"

Most of the girls jumped and hurried back towards the gym.

"You got in the way Brittany," Amber said eying Quinn, "I didn't mean to hit you,"

"Escucha! Soy de Lima Heights Adjacents y yo tengo orgullo!. Sabes lo que pasa en Lima Heights Adjacents? Cosas Malas! Get out of my face afores I ends you!"

"Sanbags enough with the taco language, get Brittany to the nurse," Sue responded, putting her hands on hips. Clearly she seemed as though today just wasn't working.

Santana in one sweep lifted Brittany clean off the ground, she was holding onto Santana like there was nothing in this world that would protect her more. This was probably true. Quinn was still, she couldn't believe Brittany had taken the hit for her.

"You got out of that well didn't you stretch marks," Amber smirked at Quinn, "Cowards like you are the reason they made the morning pill,"

Quinn saw red, immediately she threw her fist in Amber's face.

"Christ," Amber screamed.

But the damage was done, blood poured from her nose and Quinn yelped as pain shot through her knuckles.

"God is your face made of bricks?"

Sue seethed at them both, grasping Quinn by the ear and reefing her backwards, "ENOUGH" she bellowed, "THAT'S IT. Q you can kiss captaincy goodbye, Amber get out of my sight,"

"But my nose,"

"Put a damn tampon up there guppy!"

"Quinn detention! Afterschool!"

"Ms Sylvester," Quinn began.

"I'll count to three, 1… 2….!"

Quinn immediately trailed the field, half running to catch up with Santana and Brittany.

* * *

><p>"I told you to wait," Santana said angrily as she watched the nurse put a little patch over the rim of Brittany's nose, "Why don't you ever just listen to me?"<p>

"San," Quinn pleaded.

"No," she responded, "I've been dealing with Amber, I know how she works, and you don't. I knew she would respond this way, my plan was to get rid of her, few legal laxatives in her protein shakes and she'd be in the bathrooms for the next major practices. Sylvester was going to have no choice to re-instate you,"

Quinn bit her lip, _Christ that would have worked_.

"Oh but no Quinn, you have to come in all high and mighty and get my girlfriend punched in the face,"

"San," Brittany reasoned half way through sniffing, "It was a sort of accident,"

"I don't care. Quinn Ms Sylvester offered me Captain. But I didn't take it. I didn't take it because I hoped to god our best friend was going to come back after…." She trailed off, knowing that the whole plan had changed and everything had just been left out in the open, like a can of worms no one wanted to deal with.

"But Quinn hit her back" Brittany smiled, as the nurse mopped up the last remains of the blood that had dribbled onto her chin.

"Which is not how you kids are supposed to deal with things,"

Quinn looked to her left to see Mr Schuester standing in the doorway his arms folded across his chest, his '_I'm going to launch into a speech now whether you like it or not,'_ face clearly evident.

"I cannot believe what happened out there. Honestly girls give Coach Sylvester one reason and she'll run with it for miles. She's raging about how Glee Club is turning everyone violent through the pain of show tunes!"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Mr Schuester calm your vests,"

"No," he said firmly, "and do not speak to me like that either Santana, I'm an adult and you need to respect me. Principal Figgins has called an assembly tomorrow, to discuss violence on school property. Guys it's not on!"

Quinn's shoulders slumped, "Mr Schuester I just saw red,"

"Well maybe you can see _sense_ when you're sitting in detention Quinn," he replied eyeing her.

She hated that look, that look of disappointment.

"Brittany, are you okay?"

Brittany smiled at him, "My nose can take anything, it's like a dolphins, so strong,"

Santana laughed, kissing the top of her head, "I love you," she whispered.

Quinn watched them. She wondered when she would meet that person that would put her first. That even when things were just a graze or a cut, that person would make out as though the whole world was ending. Because the person they loved most had been hurt.

Where was her person?

* * *

><p>Quinn had only ever been on detention once. She was a freshman, and she hadn't done her assignment because she had been making pop tarts with Santana and Brittany. When she tried to explain this to her teacher they had thought she was actually calling them a pop tart. Needless to say she spent the whole time staring at the back wall counting all the ink stains marked across it.<p>

Now she sat at the desk by the window, feeling her skin burn because Puck also had detention. And he was sitting next to her.

There had been silence for ten minutes, and it was making her skin crawl, she didn't know how to handle it properly.

"Why won't you just talk to me?" he asked finally.

Quinn closed her eyes, _because it's too hard, because you'd never understand what I'm feeling_.

"I'm not ready,"

He sat back in the chair, annoyed.

"Quinn I'm not going to bite your head off, it was my baby too,"

She stared at him, "It was never our baby," she said, "I decided I was too young to raise a child. Look at us! We're sitting in detention in high school Puck, you think we were old enough for a child?"

He raised his eyebrows, "We were old enough to think drunken sex was a good idea,"

God there were so many things she could say back in response to that. It was such a blasé comment to make in the first place. But she was exhausted.

"Whose healing you Q?" he asked suddenly.

She frowned at him, knotting her hands together in her lap, pretending it was _her persons_ hand and they were beside her, making her feel safe, making her come first.

"Whose what?"

"It's not just Ms Pillsbury that's made you come this far, there's bits of Quinn Fabray that I can see coming back,"

"You don't know who Quinn Fabray is!" she snapped and he retreated almost immediately.

After a moment, he pushed on, "There has to be someone, who is it? Tell me?"

"Someone who is what Puck? You're not making any sense,"

"Someone who is making your heart grow back!" he answered brushing his hands across his face.

He was showing emotion. Puck never did that.

"It's no one," she lied, "You wouldn't understand,"

"Try me,"

Quinn stared at him for a moment. Stared at his jawline, at his light hazel eyes, his rugged mohawk that had been that way since the start of high school.

"I write to someone," she said finally and he frowned at her.

"Like a pen pal?"

Quinn bit her lip, it sounded so stupid when said like that.

"I guess,"

"Do you even know who this person is?"

"No," Quinn responded glaring at him, how would he know?

"Well then how can they know you Quinn?"

"Because I show them who I really am," she responded.

Puck didn't respond, he didn't know how to. Just like always, they sat side by side, in silence, not knowing the words to say to each other.

* * *

><p>Have you ever had that one place that was like your hide away? That one place that you kept going back to, because it held so much value to you? It reminded you of moments in your life when you felt okay and you kept returning there to feel those feelings again.<p>

Quinn stood at the train station. One subway in all of Ohio that mostly just ran workmen to Cincinnati and Detroit. Above the platform burns a red neon signpost.

"_Hurt? Call 1-800 Victim"._

Quinn was wondering if she qualified. Her chest ached. It felt like someone had been pushing on her sternum from the inside, trying to get out. Does that make her a victim too?

"Why are you in my chest?" She said loudly into the night.

"Whose in your chest Q?"

Quinn jumped so violently, she nearly slipped into the side of the railing. Through the dim lights of the platform, she saw Finn emerge from the shadows.

"Jesus," she said "You gave me a goddamn heart attack,"

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, "Its ten o clock of a night Quinn,"

She folded her arms, "I could ask you the same thing,"

He glared at her as though she had gone insane, "And I'm a six foot quarterback,"

Quinn pursed her lips, not wanting to make a comment about how blatantly sexist that was, or the fact it was probably the truth.

"I just come here to think Finn, like when…"

"We use to come here and watch people hop on and off the train," he finished.

She looked at him, looked at the boy she had grown up with, her first kiss, her first boyfriend, her first everything. How can you think you know someone so well, and not know them at all?

"Does Rachel know you're here?"

Finn shrugged, "We don't talk about stuff like this, about things we think about,"

Quinn scoffed, "You'd never be able to get a word in with her; she would always be talking about herself,"

His eyes narrowed, "You don't know her Quinn, you don't know her at all,"

"And you do?"

"No," he said, his shoulders slumping, "Not in the way I should by now,"

There was sadness in his voice, as though he had given everything to someone who just couldn't return it. God she knew how that felt.

Right now she felt invisible, like she was in transit, as though she was transient and could be easily lost in the high yellow marsh grass that lined the train tracks before her. Maybe she could just ride trains the rest of her life; she could get on and off all at the same stops. Nothing would change. She would be young forever.

Finn was staring at her.

"What?"

"You're heads still in the stars Quinn,"

She sighed exasperated, why does everyone always tell her things she already knows?

"Sit with me?" he asked.

And she followed him like a lost little lamb following her ginormous shepard. Finn stretched himself on the small bench just underneath the platform sign. He offered his varsity jacket to her, but Quinn shook her head.

"Do you remember when we would come here. Back when we were freshmen?"

Quinn smirked slightly; they'd been coming here longer than that, god she could remember all the way back to middle school. Thirteen and she thought that just because Finn had kissed her behind the bleachers, he was her boyfriend. By fourteen they were already going 'steady'.

"You'd talk about football, I'd talk about the cheerio's and that's just about the extent of our conversation,"

He laughed, "And then we'd just make out,"

Quinn looked to him, "Did you regret anything that we had?"

Finn shrugged, "Did we really have anything?"

"I'm sorry Finn," she whispered.

He had one of his lopsided smiles on his face, one of those looks that suggested he was confused but understood all at the same time.

"It's okay," he shrugged, "I guess this is growing up huh?"

God it felt like more than that, it felt like she was sixteen turning thirty with all the years in between missing and no idea how she had ended up where she was right now.

"Do you think we're ready for the end of high school?"

Finn laughed, "God Q that isn't for another year or so, relax"

"How can I? How can I when there's so much to think about, like getting out of here, getting out of Ohio,"

Her mind was doing it again. Where it would fold over and wage a war of communications between her heart that would consist of buzzes and clicks and lyrics to out-dated pop songs because nothing was actually making any sense.

"Quinn I think maybe you should just focus on you right now, and not worry about the end of high school."

She knew he was referring to the miscarriage. When was anyone going to let her be at peace with that? Why did everything she stressed about have to revert back to that event in her life? It had happened. There was nothing she could do about it now.

There was silence for a while. Silence had always been their favourite thing to do, because most of the time words had always failed them. She wanted _her person_; she wanted her person so badly she had to curl her fist into a ball beside her thigh to stop herself from punching something. Why was she so scared to ask? Was it this unrelenting fear of not meeting their expectations?

_Hi, I'm Quinn Fabray, I fell pregnant, then lost a baby that was never going to be mine, and now I'm on a train heading for I don't even know where, but come sit with me I'm sure my head will always be in the stars anyway, so you could never actually reach me…_

Real inviting.

"You have someone in your heart right now don't you?" he asked suddenly and Quinn felt her body react at such a random question; she nearly slid backwards off the seat.

"Did you just say that?" she asked.

Finn was a guy. But not just a guy. He was a guy's guy. He liked football and he wore clothes that never matched and he always ate far too much. But then he knew how to sing a high note to one of broadways oldest numbers. It confused Quinn; she didn't know who he was trying to be. This question was definitely something he had sat here thinking about whether or not to ask.

"Is it Puck?" he asked.

Quinn glared at him, "What makes you think that I have someone trapped in my heart Finn?"

"The look on your face, it's the same look I wish Rachel would give me,"

Quinn felt herself slump, god he seemed so heartbroken, she didn't exactly know what to do with him. Was it strange that she didn't mind sitting here talking about his relationship woes, as though it just didn't matter anymore.

"You don't think she's in love with you?"

Finn shook her head, "She's in love with someone else Q, and don't tell me otherwise, because I know it. I know it in here,"

He placed one of those huge hands to his chest, he looked like this fairy tale giant, pressing his hands to his chest because his heart had been battered and there wasn't a band aid big enough to heal it.

"Finn maybe she just…"

"She's somewhere else," he shrugged.

Quinn bit her lip; she knew that feeling all too well.

"It's not Puck," she said quietly and he glanced sideways at her.

"Who is it?"

Quinn answered him, with the most honest thing she had said to Finn Hudson in her entire life, "I don't know,"

* * *

><p>What constitutes as pain? Physical pain, words that hurt, pain from loving too much? People live their lives knowing that violence against others is wrong, but most of the time people forget how much words hurt as well.<p>

"What is Principal Figgins going to talk about?" Brittany asked as she, Quinn and Santana walked through the hordes of people, towards maths.

Quinn shrugged, "I don't know, the wrong doings of violence?"

Santana snorted, "Rachel's giving a speech, I think this will be interesting,"

"San," Brittany said softly, "Cut her a break; she was up all night writing it,"

Santana looked at her and frowned, "How would you know she was up all night…?"

"Oh because we Skype," Brittany smiled.

Santana went to open her mouth but not before a crash sounded out through the hallways causing the three of them to jump.

Azimio Adams had decided who his victim today would be.

Artie.

"You know normally I have a moral code. But considering you and your pathetic show choir team has got me attending an anti-violence lecture instead of football practise, I'm going to do the opposite. How bout I show you what it's really like to be a cripple!"

"Jesus," Santana muttered.

Quinn's jaw hit the ground as Azimio ripped Artie clean out of his chair and threw him against the lockers.

"Get Mr Schuester!" Quinn yelled at a junior, "Now!" she said as she hurried towards Artie.

"Stop the violence!" Brittany said attempting to push Azimio off Artie.

"Britts," Santana reeled, "Don't…" she pulled her backwards.

Quinn didn't know what they could do, god Azimio was so overpowering, this wasn't fair, this wasn't right either.

Artie was shielding his head with his arms, trying to form himself into a foetal position, but his legs wouldn't bend, so he was sprawled across the ground, defenceless. Azimio raised his fists.

"This is not happening," Santana said angrily and using strength that Quinn didn't even know she had, she whipped the wheelchair from the ground and she threw it clear into Azimio's side. He felt the blow of the wheels and reared on her angrily.

Brittany grabbed Santana almost immediately, and Quinn did the only thing she had left, she stood in between them and Azimio.

"GET INTO THE AUDITORIUM!"

Mr Schuester had rounded the corner, his eyes were like fire, and Quinn had never seen him angrier, "SO HELP ME GOD, EVERY STUDENT GET INTO THE AUDITORIUM OR YOU WILL EACH BE EXPELLED!"

"Mr Schuester," Quinn had started.

"Quinn get in the AUDITORIUM!" he replied angrily and he knelt down beside Artie, stroking the top of his head, "Artz its okay, its okay now,"

Quinn felt helpless as she was dragged by Santana forwards, "Move Q," Santana said softly, "Just move,"

Quinn had never been to an assembly where there was complete silence. She had never sat in the gym stands, and not heard whispers of words from students to other students.

_Have you done the biology homework? What are we doing after school? Hey did you hear about that open house party this weekend?_

This assembly was different. It was eerie, like everyone literally had no words to whisper. All their attention was focused on their pint sized principal as he stood at the microphone in the centre of the auditorium.

"Students," he said, and his voice seemed to echo right across the opened space. "Over the past few days it has come to my attention that unacceptable behaviour has erupted on our school property. Within these gates, this behaviour is not tolerated. Now while most of you sit here and think that your teachers seem ancient and irrelevant to you, one day you are going to look back and know that everything we did, was only in the best interest of you and your education," he paused a moment to look out into the seats filled with students, "This school will not and does not tolerate any form of bullying, I want to make that extremely clear. Students I have Miss Berry who will be saying a few words,"

Quinn watched as Rachel, got up from where she had been sitting in the front row. Rachel wasn't new to making school assembly speeches. She was always up there talking about fundraisers, but this was different, no one snickered, no one said anything nasty within ear shot. Everyone was just solely and completely quiet.

"I know most of you are thinking why I am even speaking right now. But I just wanted to remind you that every Tuesday afternoon Ms Pillsbury runs an afterschool class on learning to cope with bullying. It's not specifically for victims, but also for people who want to change their ways," Rachel took a deep breath.

"These are hard times for us, we're trying to deal with everything around us and still somehow people expect us to know who we are. But we shouldn't be against each other. Bullying has the potential to leave long lasting effects on victims and their families. It leaves scars that are sometimes too deep to heal,"

Quinn stared at her, _why was she so right all the time?_

"I'm not standing here for any reason other than to enlighten you. You are more than welcome to come and talk to people who are going through similar situations to you. If you feel scared or lost, maybe you might want to talk about it,"

But what happens if you don't want to talk? Does someone force the words from you? Or do you wait until they explode over the sides of your built up barricades.

Quinn craned her neck to see Rachel sit back down. Finn was right. Usually she had her arm around him, she was linked with him. As Rachel had sat down next to him, she had left a space between them. Her hands were knotted in her lap. Was this even possible? Rachel was holding her own hand? But she had Finn's hand she could reach for?

Maybe this is what Kurt had meant; maybe Rachel was as lost as what Quinn felt.


	9. Chapter 8

Hey Little Readers :)

So I'm planning to have some chapters roll in all at once for you in the next day! I am taking my time on this fic though. Quinn is so complex hey... such a good character! Anyway, as I always say... let me know your ideas, if there's something you want me to specifically write or you just have an idea... tell me... i'll put it in...just for you :)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 8<strong>

High School, Sophomore Year

_Checkmates and star signs_

* * *

><p>Quinn watched as her grandfather moved the chess piece across the board.<p>

"Checkmate," he smiled.

Quinn rolled her eyes, that had been the fifth time he'd beaten her this afternoon, and she was actually trying.

"Quinnie," he quipped, "Stop letting me win!"

"I'm not!" she replied defensively, "Pop you're winning all on your own," she folded her arms across her chest and leant back into the cushions of the wooden chair, "It's annoying," she added and a grin spread across his face stretching his wrinkles wide.

Her grandfather was the one person who had reacted the opposite way to everyone else. When she had come to his doorstep one afternoon, after weeks of crying herself to sleep and trying to deny the fact she was pregnant, and looked at him, it was as almost as if he already knew. He opened his arms and let her fall into them, and then he spent the rest of the afternoon stroking her golden hair.

"_It's quiet alright Quinnie,"_ he had soothed, _"We'll get through this,"_

Quinn stared as her grandfather reset the chess board again, ready to play another game. There's this unspoken truce between grandparents and their grandchildren. You'll always find that they'll always take your side over anything, not because they want to spoil you, not because they want to win you over, but because more often than not, they know you better than you know yourself. Her grandfather had always taught her the things Quinn didn't think she would have the patience to teach herself. He had taught her how to fish. The most vivid recollection she had was when he took her and Frannie up to the Little Lost Creek just before the highway on route to Pittsburgh. Frannie had been fussing over whether her new shoes were going to get wet, that their grandfather had moved Quinn to a nice little spot on the edge of the lake. She caught seven fish that afternoon.

Her grandparents' house had always been a place of solitude. It was just a two block walk, and when Quinn had been younger she use to ride her bike over and sit on the porch, as her grandfather taught her how to play chess. Clearly she needed to rework her skills. The one thing she would always remember about this house was walking through their blue front door on Sunday afternoons.

The first thing her Dad would say was, _"What's to eat?"_

There was always something. Quinn's grandmother would be sitting in her little rocking chair, wearing the huge apron that covered her dress. Back then her Grandmother wore dresses all the time. Quinn had always loved jumping on the kitchen bench as the rest of her family would trail into the lounge room. She would sit and watch her grandmother bake, while she fired questions about books at her.

_"Have you read my summer list Quinnie?"_ she would ask, and Quinn would nod.

Her Grandmother always cooked in a little double boiler that always fascinated her. When her grandmother past away, Sundays become limited, Frannie grew up and moved out and Quinn was left to dabble in decisions to make for herself. Even so, she needed her grandfather; she needed the twinkle that had never left his eye.

"Pop," she said looking at him, he looked so happy with himself that he had managed to reset the chess board so quickly, normally his frail hands would take longer to set it all out.

"Can I ask you something?"

He looked at her a moment, and again an unspoken string of words hung between them.

_We don't have to talk about the miscarriage Quinn. Not if you don't want to._

"Can you be in love with someone you've never met before?"

Her grandfather's eyes seemed to lighten slightly, as he stared at her with a confused expression on his face.

"Well," he shrugged, "What do you think love means Quinn?"

Quinn slumped back into the chair, how was she supposed to know what love meant? There was so much in this world that seemed like love, only it wasn't, because more often than not, the words are used to soon.

"I think love is like words," she replied, "it's strung together in sentences that fit with another person's thoughts. The best conversations are had between the people you love,"

He nodded slightly, scratching his chin with his fingertips, "Your grandmother always used to say that in this world, there were meaningless words, pointless words and there were words that hurt. But above that, there were words that healed, that left small footprints in here," he pointed to his chest.

"Pop, do I seem different to you?"

He tilted his head, "Well I think you're not getting much sun lately…"

Quinn smirked, that's because instead of Cheerio's practice she was in the library, avoiding Vitamin D, but soaking in _letters with words_ that were intoxicating.

"No do I seem, I don't know, far away?"

He laughed, "Quinnie, you've always had your head up in that sky,"

She bit her lip, "Pop I just feel like, there's someone who finally understands me, but I don't know how to reach them,"

"Quinn," he said looking at her, "The only way to reach them, is to come back down to earth, leave the stars for a while, come be with all of us down here,"

God she loved the way her grandfather spoke, it was always in poetic rhythms that no one else in her family had ever understood. It was like their own artistically crafted language that they had shared since she had been a little girl.

He gave her one of his wrinkled smiles, "Are you afraid that maybe they'll reach you instead?"

Quinn thought on this a moment, was it possible for someone to know her thoughts, without knowing her?

"The problem is, I don't know who they are, what if they're someone I've made up in my head?"

He slid the king's pawn two spaces, indicating a fresh new game, "You might find Quinnie that the person you want most, has been the same person who's been around you, your whole life,"

Quinn frowned, ignoring the fact it was her turn, she opened her mouth to ask what he had meant but the closing of car door indicated someone had just arrived.

"Kurtis," her grandfather grinned, "How do you like the new drapes?"

Kurt blinked up at the bay window from where he had stopped just short of the steps up to the porch.

"I think they're fantastic Snips," he said, nodding in approval.

Quinn smirked slightly; Kurt was the only person in the entire universe who could get away with calling her grandfather by his old army nickname. Before Quinn's mother had been married, her maiden name was Snippet, the amount of times Quinn was thankful this had not been her last name she couldn't count. Even so she loved the bond Kurt had developed with her grandfather, it helped him understand how much their generation had developed and changed.

"Sit boy," her grandfather instructed, and Kurt bounded onto the porch to take a seat next to him. He reached for the peach tea almost immediately, before eying the chess board.

"You're hopeless Little B," he said to Quinn and she rolled her eyes in defeat.

Later that afternoon, Quinn sat with her legs stretched out along her grandfather's driveway, shorts rolled, praying that the last evaporating rays of sun would give her the vitamin D her grandfather insisted she needed. Kurt sat beside her reading through the sheet music they had been given to study in the earlier Glee lesson.

"The power of Madonna Quinn, if you we don't learn _how to express ourselves_ through this lesson I don't think we'll make it to regionals,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Can you be calm please, everything will be okay,"

Kurt looked at her, "Have you spoken to Rachel yet?"

Not exactly, because she had been avoiding it at every possible cost.

"I don't think I need to, I mean the power of Madonna will bring out a new found ability for her to take charge of her life,"

Kurt gritted his teeth, "You haven't even asked her what her problem is!"

"Have you? Has Finn, aka her boyfriend? Has anyone else in Glee Club asked her what's wrong, someone that is actually her friend and can stand to be within five feet of her,"

Kurt scrunched the sheet of paper in his hand as a reflex and Quinn leaned back from him, he looked so annoyed right now, she instantly felt bad.

"She won't talk to us Quinn. I don't know why, but she just won't. You've been to hell and back, before the year has even been out. And I think that's where Rachel is as well right now. I just thought that you might be able to give her tips on how to stay above the surface," he folded his arms, "But if that's too much to ask for then I guess…"

"Kurt," she moaned, "No need for your Betty White moments, I'll talk to her okay,"

"Tomorrow," he said firmly, to which Quinn went to protest, "Tomorrow!" he demanded.

"Tomorrow," she sighed, defeated like the Spartans.

"Kurtis!" came her grandfather's voice from inside the house.

"Put the kettle on Snips!" he called back, "I'll be inside in a jiff!"

Quinn smirked slightly, shaking her head.

"You stay out here until the sun disappears, and think about what you're going to say,"

Quinn looked at him incredulously, "Are you banning me from my own grandfather's house?"

"Men's business," he shrugged.

"Kurt, you're having tea and jam tarts, that is not…"

"You think, I eat," he cut her off, and he pulled himself upwards and took off towards the house, leaving Quinn to sit and wonder how the hell she was going to ask Rachel Berry if she wanted to talk, let alone, actually talk to her.

* * *

><p>When Quinn had been seven years old, her grandfather had been working on a magic act for the annual Christmas pageant at his seniors club. The whole thing was literally just a gathering of wiry haired seniors, who wanted a good cackle, but her grandfather took it so seriously, no one had the heart to tell him otherwise. His assistant for the act had been the centre's receptionist. She was this great big lady, with her front tooth missing, big thick dreadlocks and eyelashes that reminded Quinn of spider's legs. The woman was just goddamn scary. The night of the pageant she had called in sick. Quinn had made up a small speech to beg her grandfather to let her be his assistant instead. But he had snuck her backstage, sat her on one of the stools and asked her in a way that she was doing <em>him<em> the favour. A that age, Quinn still believed that every quarter that he pulled from her behind her ear, and every bouquet of flowers that were stored away up his sleeves was real.

Quinn learnt a lot that night.

She learnt that to be a magician's assistant, meant you would discover and come face to face with the illusion. It was a certain type of invisibility that knotted your body a certain way and allowed the black curtain to fall over you. More importantly, she learnt that people can never just vanish, no one becomes invisible to anyone else, or too far lost in their thoughts; people disappear, because everyone else around them, becomes too selfish to ask if they need help reappearing.

"Sometimes I get so caught up in my own thoughts I don't know how to come back to what's actually happening,"

Quinn wasn't use to this. She wasn't use to Rachel sitting in the bleachers, let alone next to her, let alone talking about the things going on inside her head. It was before school, the sun was shining and Quinn felt so uncomfortable, she just wanted to turn and walk away.

"What do you do?" Rachel asked turning to her.

Quinn looked at her; there was something in the way her eyes were blinking in the light. It was endearing, it made Quinn tremble. God Rachel made her feel frustrated for five seconds and then not wanting to move an inch minutes afterwards.

"When I was little, my grandfather used to make up secret hideaway places. If ever I was lonely, or afraid, he would tell me to meet him on the south side of anywhere,"

Rachel tilted her head frowning, "The south side of anywhere? But how would you know where that was?"

Quinn rolled her eyes impatiently, "Rachel do you ever not think with logic? Be creative!"

Rachel pursed her lips, "Quinn, logic is a very admirable trait, it…"

"It could be anywhere Rachel," she said cutting her off, "Anywhere that would make me feel safe again. Sometimes it was the park across the road, other times it was his front porch. Sometimes it was just a safe place my mind could drift to when I didn't want to be here,"

"Do you still go there?"

Quinn looked at her, thinking about her south side of anywhere right now, it was the Ohio subway platform, with its red neon lights, its steel bench and the yellow poppies growing on the sides that reminded her of spring.

"All the time,"

_God why was she telling her all her secrets?_

Rachel sighed a moment, before knotting her hands together.

_Christ_ Quinn thought looking at them, she knotted her hands together like Quinn had done all these years, pretending someone was holding her hand.

"Could I come too?" she asked.

Quinn stilled, this was too much.

"Rachel, you need to focus on regionals. You're our best shot at winning okay, just go into Glee Club today and just sing. You do it well enough, just focus on that,"

Just like that Quinn had made Rachel retreat back into her shell again, she was like a small turtle, she folded into her shell and Quinn thought that maybe even Madonna wouldn't get her back out again.

**. . .**

Quinn was going to get her Captaincy back. Particularly considering Santana had convinced the Cheerio's that Amber had schizophrenia and morphed into a troll every night. The only down side to this, was Brittany believed her too, which meant she literally could not stand within two feet of her. Quinn knew she needed to target Coach Sylvester on a good day. Those good days were usually Thursdays, because she had spent the previous Wednesday night at the care centre with her older sister. Coach Sylvester was a very private woman, but there had been times over the years where she had slipped up, she had let Quinn know something about her life either intentionally or unintentionally Quinn was still trying to figure that out. Ms Sylvester's sister had Down syndrome, and she was the absolute light of the woman's life.

Which is why Thursdays were goods days.

That was two days away.

So Quinn would need to wait, she could wait though, particularly considering there had been another letter left for her. The library had gradually filled with students over the past few weeks. Seniors were realising that the more their final school year drew to a close, the more the tests and final exams were nearly upon them. Looking at them, cramming study into their schedules, talking about college applications and final majors for their extracurricular activities, she wondered if she was going to be the same in another year or so. Everyone always said to enjoy junior year, because when you became a senior, the work load increased, and you just forgot anything that wasn't study related. Quinn was definitely going to be Captain by the time she reached her senior year, she would not stand for anything less.

Quinn fell into her desk, it was like coming home; it was so familiar to her. She reached for the binder, smiling as she withdrew the note.

_You have me._

Quinn literally felt her heart rate increase.

_You're the only person I can talk to. The only person who wants me to reach for them. You know, the more I think about you, about who you could be, I think that maybe you're a star. __As though you and I don't really belong here. As though you came to my sleepy little world, surrounded in this different light and you've changed me. Is that strange that you could do that just through your words? You untangled herself from the velvet and dropped quietly into my life, and ever since I've never looked at the sky the same. I have this place I go to, late at night, just to think, and sometimes when I stare at the moonlight as it gently hugs the water, I think of what it would be like to hug you, to hold you, feel you, touch you. For now though, I'll just imagine you as my star. I can look at the sky then, look at the sky and pretend I'm looking at you._

Quinn's heart wasn't in her chest anymore. It was somewhere between flying out the window and trying to stop herself from combusting from the inside. She trailed her eyes down the lines of the page and then frowned at the small gold star that had been stuck in the corner of the page. She studied it for what seemed like the rest of the period, she was just staring at it, she couldn't put her finger on it. It was so familiar. She cursed slightly, of course it was familiar, _it was_ a god damn star. But then Quinn's shoulders slumped. Not like this, not like the way it had been spoken about in the words written above it, and then put gently at the edge of the page.

Who did this star belong to?


	10. Chapter 9

My Little readers! :) how are we?

Just quickly, I want to apologise in advance for spelling mistakes! Someone commented on my _brittana_ fic about mixing up two words constantly and saying how it was stupid. I have to admit I laughed... its cute when people get their hardcore keyboard insults on and they're anonymous! GOSH. but yes I am sorry for any spelling errors, but its not as if this is a world class book thats been edited! it's **FANFICTION**...wow rant over!

AND yes I will continue this story for as long as I can, so to those who have asked to see what happens when everything is revealed... can I just say that I want to make this story longer than my last (and that reached 40 chapters!) so YES ;)

okay I'm shutting up now :) Enjoy!

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 9<strong>

High School, Sophomore Year

_Made up languages with secret signs of vulnerability_

* * *

><p>When Quinn and her sister were little, they invented a language between them. Quinn had forgotten most of it, with the exception of a few feeble words: <em>hiklar<em>, which meant monster; _pulinio _which meant sunshine and _raddlipo_; which didn't have any human or English translation, it just described the intertwining of a sailor's knot, which was sometimes how they use to describe their relationship. Most days they were connected, other days not so much. In the winter, they would build snow forts. They had intensely dug out tunnels and woven mazes that her mother would always fret they would get lost in.

"_Never,"_ Frannie would say, _"I'll always be able to find Quinn,"_

They'd sit on ice made thrones until they couldn't feel their fingers or toes anymore and then Frannie would insist it was the only place they could really control. In spring time, they ate chocolate muffins on their grandparent's porch and discussed the possibility of the spice girls reforming. In the fall, they would climb their back fence to reach the acreage of _McDonalds Orchards and Pine Trees_. It was like a Christmas farm, lines of pine trees and small honey suckle bushes in between. Quinn would keep watch as Frannie snuck through the rows and collected the small honey buds, and then they would sit and eat the honey syrup until their mother called them inside. In the summer, they wrote secret predictions about how they thought the future would turn out. They sat in the backyard under the light of the fire flies and scribbled dreams that neither of them thought would come true. Then they would hide them in the hollow of the maple tree at the edge of their garden. Frannie would whisper that this was their time capsule, and when they grew up, they would come back here and see if the dreams had come true. It was the summer after Quinn's freshman year that things changed. Frannie had met Spyros, a Greek exchange student who filled her mind with endless possibilities of travelling the world. Quinn knew it, their parents knew it; this was the boy Frannie would run away with. It happened, not even a year after she had finished high school.

Quinn stared at Frannie's mobile number in her phone, trying to work out what time it would be in Greece right now. Trying to think of whether or not she should call her. What would she say? _Hi Frannie, I know you decided to ignore me after I got pregnant, but I'm not pregnant anymore so I was wondering if maybe I could ask you some questions. Because you know I'm still your younger sister and I really need my older sister right now_. She rolled her eyes at the thoughts swirling in her head. Her parents spoke to Frannie all the time, but they never gave any clues as to how she was going. Quinn didn't know whether this was a good thing or not. Sometimes people find themselves walking through life like their blindfolded. They'll do anything to blame circumstance, or chance or fate on why they were blinded in the first place. What a lot of people forget, is that we're the ones who secretly tie the knot ourselves. Quinn had been embarrassed to show her sister what her future predictions would be. So she had folded the paper five times over and pushed it right to the back of the small hole, praying that when they returned, they'd be old enough not to laugh at each other's. Quinn remembers what she wrote though, she remembers because for the rest of her life it will never change. She had written, _to find somebody whose words I fall in love with._

"Quinn?"

Quinn jumped slightly from where she had been staring at her ceiling. How the hell her mind was so active at 7:30 in the morning she will have no idea. Her mother stood in the doorway, a cup of coffee steaming from the mug in her hands.

"Oh you're up," she smiled, "I was just making sure you wouldn't be late for school,"

Quinn lifted her head slightly out from the blankets, there was no way she was allowed to miss school today. It was regionals song choice discussions.

* * *

><p>"Anything by Amy Winehouse and I'm goods," Santana said as they stood in the school car park, waiting for Brittany to find her mobile.<p>

"Britts!" Mercedes whined, "I think you should tie your phone to your hand!"

Brittany popped her head up from where she had been peering under the driver's seat of Mercedes Volvo.

"Cedes," she said wide eyed, "They would call me phone hands!"

Santana laughed, "Baby leave it, the only person you call is me, and we have classes together all day today,"

Brittany sighed, "Yes but then I can't sext you in the middle of history,"

"I'm out," Mercedes grumbled, as Santana pulled Brittany into a fit of kisses.

Quinn grinned closing the door and catching up to Mercedes as the central locking switched on.

Car-pooling had started only a few weeks back, when Santana complained that all the petrol money they spent separately could be spent on Breastix meals.

"You thought about song choice?" Quinn asked her and Mercedes looked at her.

"Yes," she nodded, "But what good is it, if Rachel will be getting all the solos?"

Quinn chewed the inside of her lip.

Maybe she wouldn't be.

**. . .**

Quinn stared at the Cheerio's out in the field, from the library window. God almighty they sucked right now. With the exception of Santana and Brittany, but even they seemed to have given up. Quinn gritted her teeth as she watched Amber attempt to complete a left rounded back flip. She couldn't even land straight on her feet. Coach Sylvester was speaking to Mr Schuester just adjacent to the circle the Cheerio's were performing in. Quinn knew she was arguing with him; arguing because if Glee Club did not win regionals, she was having Principal Figgins pull it from the school curriculum. If Quinn didn't get back on the Cheerio's and Glee Club ended, where the hell did she fit in?

She pulled the letter from the binder and opened it; maybe _her person_ was the only one left who would make her feel as though she belonged.

_I found a song for you. It's so strange because I don't normally listen to songs like this, but I found it, and I thought of you, and us, and whatever us is, and I just wanted to share a bar of the lyrics with you, because I think, I think you've changed me._

_I was born to tell you I love you__  
><em>_isn't that a song already__  
><em>_I get a B in originality__  
><em>_and it's true I can't go on without you__  
><em>_your smile makes me see clearer__  
><em>_if you could only see in the mirror what I see_

_Only I want to see you. I want to hold you. I know you're vulnerable, and I know you're scared, but I need you. Please say you need me back._

Quinn felt her hands shake; the small star had been stuck to the edge of the paper again. The past few weeks, Quinn had slowly managed to fill in the cracks that had formed along her soul. But what if revealing herself brought them back again?

**. . .**

Mr Schuester smiled as Quinn entered the music rooms.

"Hey Q," he said.

"Mr Schuester, Glee club doesn't start for another fifteen minutes, why did you want to see me?"

He shrugged off handily, "Have you had any thoughts as to what we should sing at Regionals?"

Quinn smirked, "You're asking my opinion?"

"Well you're part of this club aren't you?" he asked.

Quinn sighed slightly, "Mr Schuester, I know you don't want to talk to me about song choice, I'm pretty sure Rachel has that covered already, what is this really about?"

He leant against the piano slightly, "Where's your head at lately?"

Quinn bit her lip, was this a trick question?

"With what?"

"With everything, with Sue Sylvester not letting you back on The Cheerio's"

"She will," Quinn interrupted, "Eventually,"

Mr Schuester grinned at her, "Why can't you have that same drive for Glee?"

_The same drive as what?_

"I don't really understand what point you're trying to make Mr Schuester," she replied.

"What do you think Glee Club is about Quinn?" he tried again.

Quinn still had no other true answer other than singing and belonging but both of those didn't really seem like an over inspirational answer. When she stared back at him blankly, he held up his hands.

"Imagine something for me," he said. "Imagine you have a bank account that gives you a thousand dollars every day,"

Quinn frowned slightly; if that was the case she could afford an air fare ticket to Paris and never come back. Mr Schuester continued without letting her imagine sipping wine under the Eiffel Tower.

"Every day the bank will delete whatever funds you didn't use, it carries nothing over, it's just a fresh slate each and every day, what would you do Quinn? Because I would draw every single cent out!"

Quinn laughed as he re-enacted '_show me the money'_ from that old Tom Cruise movie.

"I wish that existed!" Quinn said, god the shoes she would buy.

"It does Quinn," he said eying her, "But it's not called a bank, it's called time, every day there's a new account for you, because it carries over no balance, and each night it burns the remains of the day. You can't overdraw tomorrow Quinn; you have to live every day in the present,"

Quinn finally saw the sense in what he was trying to say.

"I'm trying to tell you, that you should invest in the things that make you happy Quinn, if singing makes you happy, then I will give you solo's, you just have to believe in yourself a little more,"

Quinn smiled briefly at him, "You're a really good teacher, Mr Schue, even if everyone calls you a man-whore sometimes,"

He frowned at her, but before he had the chance to ask what in the world she meant, Mercedes and Puck had entered the room.

"If Rachel says one more thing about doing reprisals of Olivia Newton John I'm going to throw up," he said, throwing his bag into the corner.

"Alright guys," Mr Schuester said, "Just take a seat,"

Quinn hopped over to where Kurt was already perching himself near the instruments and she moved the chair slightly so Santana could sit down beside her.

"Rachel can you come up here for announcements please," Mr Schuester asked, to which Santana moaned.

Rachel ignored Santana's eye roll before casually announcing that she had made a list of songs for everyone to choose from.

"Pippi Longstockings you are making my ears burn, stop speaking," Santana said, and Rachel slightly slumped at the front of the classroom.

"Santana," Mr Schuester warned.

"Let her speak," Finn snapped to which Santana went to retaliate but Quinn put her hand on her thigh.

"Relax," she said and Santana immediately closed her mouth. It was the first time in a while that Quinn had omitted her charge. It felt good.

"I made a list," Rachel continued, "So it's up to all of you if you want to do these songs or choose others,"

Quinn frowned, was Rachel actually letting them participate in song choice? The pieces of paper were handed around the classroom, and Quinn took one from Brittany as she passed it to her.

She froze.

A small golden star had been placed just on the edge of the page. Quinn grabbed Santana's piece of paper.

"Jesus Q, calm down, they're all the same,"

They _were_ all the same, a list of songs with a gold star stuck to the bottom.

"Rachel," she demanded, "What are these star stickers?"

Rachel frowned, "My signature?"

Santana moaned again, "Yes we all know you're going to be a burning bright sensation, no need to rub it in,"

"When did you start doing that?" Quinn asked again, more forcefully, and everyone's heads looked at her.

Mercedes was glaring at her as if she was acting far too dramatically.

Rachel shrugged, "I've always done it Quinn, so you're too late to start insulting me about it,"

Quinn was speechless, _it couldn't be, it just couldn't be right?_

"Mr Schuester," Rachel said, "I know we're supposed to be looking at song choices and everything, but I was wondering if I could sing a song today?"

"You always sing songs," Puck said from the back.

Rachel gritted her teeth, "I just really want to express something okay!"

Mr Schuester held up his hand so Santana couldn't respond with something smart, but Kurt had already interjected, "Just let her, she didn't do Madonna justice the other day,"

Rachel had one of her, '_yes I so did'_ faces on but Brad, the piano guy had already started punching keys on the piano, she had no choice but to begin what she wanted to sing.

Quinn felt everything fall out beneath her.

_Share with me the blankets that your wrapped in__  
><em>_because its cold outside cold outside its cold outside__  
><em>_share with me the secrets that you kept in__  
><em>_because its cold inside cold inside its cold inside_

_and your slowly shaking finger tips__  
><em>_show that your scared like me so__  
><em>_let's pretend we're alone__  
><em>_and I know you may be scared__  
><em>_and I know were unprepared__  
><em>_but I don't care_

_Tell me tell me__  
><em>_what makes you think that you are invincible__  
><em>_I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure__  
><em>_please don't tell me that I am the only one that's vulnerable__  
><em>_impossible_

_I was born to tell you I love you__  
><em>_isn't that a song already__  
><em>_I get a B in originality__  
><em>_and it's true I can't go on without you__  
><em>_your smile makes me see clearer__  
><em>_if you could only see in the mirror what I see__  
><em>

It was almost like the world had stop spinning. Like everyone in the entire room had just disappeared and the only person she could see was Rachel. Quinn's heart had gone into some chaotic fit, this wasn't happening.

This wasn't true, this was just a series of coincidences, and surely _her person_ couldn't be Rachel Berry.

It just couldn't be. _  
><em>


	11. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

High School, Sophomore Year

_Runaway places and hideaway spaces_

* * *

><p>When Frannie had only just left for Greece, Quinn used to imagine all the ways she would come back to her. Quinn would be standing in line for coffee at the old Coffee Mill just down the road, and a girl on the stool next to her would turn and their eyes would lock, like the way Frannie would glare at her at family barbeques. Quinn would reach for the letters in the mailbox and instead of her mobile phone bill it would be a letter from her sister, telling her she was still there for her. Or she would go to her first driver-ed class and instead Frannie would be waiting in the passenger seat, telling her they were going to run away. In all these day dreams, Frannie was the older sister she had been when they were younger, the one that promised Quinn she would never abandon her. Now? Now her sister wasn't here, she was on this already fragile relationship with her parents, and her friends were trying so hard to keep her on the ground. To top everything off, the only person who could break down the barricades was someone she didn't want it to be.<p>

What in the hell had happened?'

You know, nothing will ever measure how important your life is, as to the things you pack away in a suitcase. You lay it out before you, and it has its own way of asking you what you really need. As Quinn stood in the centre of her room, she realised that it wasn't about trying to fit everything you've accumulated into one suitcase; it was about carrying with you the few things that meant the most. She stared at the flannelette pyjamas she had worn every single night since she had found out she was pregnant, the notebook she wrote her deepest secrets in, and then she stared at the letter's she had kept.

_God those letters_.

"You better not be trying to do what I think you are,"

Quinn clutched her chest and spun around, grumbling as her mother stood in her doorway again. Judy had a book tucked under her arm, and her reading glasses perched half way down her nose.

"Where you going Quinn?"

"Nowhere," she replied, to which was a lie, because she was literally planning on running away.

"If you even think about going through with what I think you are doing, then I think we have a problem,"

"I think you just used think too much," Quinn responded looking at her.

Judy smirked, holding up the book; 'Thinking Patterns' was the title.

"Mum, I just…"

"Quinn," Judy reasoned, "No matter how hard things are now, I can assure you if you don't have the people you love around you, it will be harder,"

"I miss Frannie," she said suddenly, and she saw her mother nearly crumble at the mention of her name.

"Sweetheart…"

"She disowned me," Quinn interrupted, "Abandoned me when I needed her most,"

"She didn't…"

"Look I know she's the golden child and everything but don't pretend that she doesn't talk to me anymore, because she doesn't"

"She is not the golden child!" her mother replied defensively, "Your father and I…"

"Are on her side," Quinn responded, kicking the side of her bed, she felt so angry all of a sudden.

"That is not true," Judy said, stepping into the room, stepping over the threshold, like her father had done before too.

"You are both our daughters Quinn, and we love you both equally and unconditionally, I do not know what Frannie's reasoning is, but she's old enough to make her own decisions, and I just hope she's wise enough to realise the mistake she's made,"

"I made the mistake, not her," Quinn said keeping her eyes on her feet.

"We all made a mistake," Judy said softly and she wrapped her up in her arms, "Come have some tea with me," she whispered into her hair, "Save packing things away for your first trip overseas,"

"Mum," Quinn muttered.

"Come baby girl," Judy said and she dragged her away from the suitcase.

* * *

><p>Quinn's favourite museum as a child had been Lima's <em>Allen County Museum<em>. It wasn't overly spectacular, but her grandfather used to take her on the last Sunday of every month, because they housed the exhibit called the '_Wash away Pool'_. Quinn would spend hours at this one exhibit, namely because it was a round tank, full of sea stars, hermit crabs, sponge like coral and sea urchins that would look like breathing rocks. In the corner of the tank, there was a red button that if pressed, would create this wave and spin all the little sea life around in dizzy circles like a washing machine, and then let them settle again. Quinn had always thought it was like playing God. With one press of her finger, she had suddenly become someone who caused change. She would always target the sea urchins. They had just settled back into an unmoving position, and Quinn would go and press the button again, causing them to change position all over again. It was so uncanny to think that inside this tank was a small society that relied on the idea that having a status quo meant having no status quo at all. She would always wonder what the world be like, if no one stayed in the same position for more than five minutes, if everyone's roles constantly changed.

If people could be whoever they wanted to be, and change it every day.

One time, her grandfather had also shown her this great big ball, which sat spinning on top of a faucet. Quinn knew that it was just an optical illusion, that it was meant to trick her into thinking something different, but she would never forget the feelings she would get from sitting and staring at that ball. The feelings that perhaps, somewhere, maybe tucked into the depths of this earth, water was able to run backwards; and fold into its past self.

"Good holy lord, you were reborn again weren't you," Santana said suddenly, causing Quinn to snap out of the stars and re-join reality.

Which had been standing with Santana, Britts and Kurt outside the music rooms, waiting for Glee Club to start. The three of them turned and looked in the direction Santana was glaring.

Rachel stood in front of them, covered it what appeared to be egg yolk.

"No actually I was just pelted with eggs,"

Brittany uttered a cry of sympathy.

"By who?" Kurt demanded.

"Vocal Adrenaline," Rachel murmured, she was trying so hard not to cry, but her lips were quivering and Quinn knew she wasn't going to be able to stop herself, "Now I'm just going to keep having nightmares of all of the mothers of the little baby chicks coming at me for revenge,"

"Mr Schuester will hear about this," Kurt said and he stormed into the music rooms.

"Hold up Kurtastical, no one does revenge better than I do" and Santana marched after him.

"Rachel," Brittany offered, "Would you like some help, cleaning the deceased baby chickens off your face?"

Quinn's shoulder's slumped as Rachel's face turned into a look of horror, "Britts" Quinn said, "They don't appear to have been fertilised,"

Brittany just looked confused.

"It's okay," Quinn reasoned, "I'll do it,"

Brittany smiled, before taking off into the music rooms to listen to what Santana was yelling about.

Quinn looked at Rachel standing beside her, she was a mess, "Come," Quinn said and Rachel did as she was instructed.

Maybe that was what Glee Club was about, even if they bickered and fought like crazy, when something happened, their defence mechanisms were put into play. No one messed with their clan. No one.

Fifteen minutes later, Quinn wanted to gag on the smell of egg yolk.

"I am going to wreak for days,"

Quinn dumped the paper towels into the waste basket beside the basins, before leaning down to her backpack and pulling out the bottle of Blueberry perfume her grandfather had bought her for her birthday earlier this year.

She started to spray some of it on Rachel.

"Why are you doing this?" Rachel asked looking at her.

Quinn was trying so hard not to look at her eyes, if she did, she was sure she would recognise them as the ones drawn for her, and that would just confirm everything.

"I hate vocal adrenaline as much as anyone," she replied, which was true. That school and their Glee Club had always been completely horrible in every competition they had endured together.

"Yes but you hate me as much as anyone too,"

_Actually I think I love you._

"No I don't," she choked, god she almost said what she had been thinking.

Rachel was staring at her so intently; Quinn thought her skin was on fire, she instead focused on plucking the last pieces of egg shells from her cardigan.

"Let's just beat them okay," Quinn said, trying to divert whatever conversation they were about to have.

"I'm sorry about your baby Quinn," she said suddenly and Quinn's eyes immediately snapped up to look at her.

"What?"

"I've never had the chance to ever say that to you, and I just wanted to say it," she shrugged.

Quinn did not take her eyes off her, "Why are you sorry Rachel? You don't know me,"

"I know that something like that would be enough to bring anyone down from the clouds, and I know that you didn't deserve it,"

_Christ almighty._

Quinn's phone sounded off before she had the chance to reply to what Rachel had just said. She reached into her pocket and glanced at the screen.

_San:_

'WE ARE GOING TO START A RIOT AT CARMEL HIGH!'

Quinn frowned slightly, surely this is not what Mr Schuester had suggested, her phone sounded again and instead a message from Kurt appeared.

_My Kurt:_

'Santana over exaggerated. Can you and Rachel come to class please. Mr Schuester has a plan,'

**. . .**

Quinn sat with the rest of her classmates in the auditorium, while Mr Schuester spoke to Vocal Adrenaline's Glee coach.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Finn and Rachel; he had his arm around shoulder, holding her tightly. Quinn bit her lip. She couldn't take Rachel away from him. Not when she wasn't sure if her mind and her heart were on similar thinking patterns. Finn needed someone too didn't he? Even if that persons heart might be somewhere else? God why was everything so complicated!

"They call it a funkification, meaning they show us what they've got and we spiral into a deep cloud of funk," Artie said beside her.

Quinn looked at him, "Artz, I think you mean _we_ show _them_ what we've got,"

He thought on this a moment, "It's the side effects of the bullying, messed with my brain skills,"

Quinn went to respond to such a worrying answer, but Mr Schuester was already calling them to the front of the auditorium.

Quinn took her place, to the left of the stage, just near Kurt, "Let's get funka-fied," he grinned and Quinn smirked.

The lights were blasted on, the music sounded and Quinn did what she did best. She showed her funk through the music.

**. . .**

Quinn thought about what she had written on the letter as she walked from the school gates to the car park.

_I can't write back anymore. _

_You'll be a star though. _

_But I can't be your star; I have to go back to the sky…_

She snuck quietly through the lines of cars, and reached the one she knew was Rachel's. Peering through the windscreen, she saw small star hanging from a chain, underneath the review mirror. How could she have not picked up on this earlier? Quinn tucked the letter under the windscreen wiper of Rachel's car, glancing slightly to make sure no one was watching. She turned to walk back into fifth period again, before stopping and clenching her firsts, '_God take it back Q, take it back now or you will lose the one thing that's made you feel alive,'_

The bell signalled. Shit.

It was too late now, students were pouring from the classrooms, the ink had been splashed across the page, and it was done. The door was closed.

The next day, Quinn felt the tears run down her face, as she got a response left on the desk.

_You know who I really am don't you. I'm not what you thought I would be, and you don't want me do you? Don't go back, please, tell me who you are, I can be anything you need me to be._

_Please don't leave me._


	12. Chapter 11

Little Readers, you give me all these feelings with your comments :)

Firstly, to the person who told me to wake up... ha :P I'm up, I'M UP! damn living on this huge island so far away from the rest of world civilisation, chilling with koala bears and tying to match up to fifty billion time zones (okay way over exaggerated)...

Although now I get really nervous posting chapters, because I want to live up to your expectations… omg!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 11<strong>

High School, Sophomore Year.

_Closing the curtain and opening the door to summer_

* * *

><p>Nobody will ever want to admit that bad things will continue to happen. Bad things will happen to good people and there's not a single thing anyone can do about it. For a long time Quinn had wondered whether to treat her pregnancy as a bad thing. When she had finally got her head around the fact that maybe it wasn't so bad, she had a miscarriage. So was this miscarriage a bad thing too? Because it eliminated the pregnancy, which to Quinn had been originally a bad thing, did that make the miscarriage a good thing? There was no justification in it really, no right or wrong, because people look at bad things differently to others. Someone forgets their wallet in the shopping mall, and that's a bad thing, and yet because they turn back for it, they end up running into a long lost friend. People are sick one morning, with a terrible cold; that's a bad thing, and yet because they missed work, they missed the office fire that broke out. Maybe bad things happen because it's all a chain.<p>

At the beginning of time, a bad thing happened, and that led to someone else doing a bad thing, and so on so forth. Maybe all these bad things are like that game, where you whisper a sentence into someone's ear, and then they pass it along to the next person, but then in the end it all just comes out one big mess.

Quinn stared at her plate; then again, maybe bad things will keep happening because it's the only way humans will keep remembering what good is supposed to feel like.

"You excited for tomorrow sweetheart?"

Quinn looked at her father sitting on the opposite side of the table, he looked so tired today and she guessed he'd had such a busy day.

"I suppose," she replied, toying with the peas on her plate.

"I'm sorry we can't be there darling," her mother said, "But tomorrow is such a hectic day, we both won't get home until late,"

Quinn shrugged; she knew her parents wouldn't have come anyway. They didn't do school plays or theatre performances, it just wasn't in them. All Quinn knew was sophomore year was coming to an end, and after the summer she was going to be a senior, and after being a senior she was going to have to decide whether she was going to college. The more she fretted over life choices, the more she came back to damn Rachel Berry and her damn letters. Quinn took her fork and began to stab the chicken in front of her, much to the dismay of Judy.

"Quinn," she reasoned, "I assure you the chicken is definitely dead,"

The chicken then made her think of Rachel's attack, which made her burn, those bastards think they can get away with doing that to her, she was so small and defenceless. _Christ_ Quinn was actually getting riled up about someone hurting Rachel.

How could this be?

She and Santana tripped her over in the halls every other day?

God that made her feel sick, she had been such a bully.

"Quinn!" her mother repeated a little more forcefully, and it caused Quinn to return to the dinner table.

"Sorry," she mumbled, putting the fork down, "Mum I'm really not hungry, I think I'm just going to go to bed, big day tomorrow,"

Quinn left her parents and walked from the room; she pulled herself up the stairs and then collapsed on her bed.

Maybe the whole idea of fate was who you blamed when something went wrong. Some people blame others, some people say its Gods will, and other people just blame themselves. Quinn wondered if maybe it just all chalked up to circumstance, then again had fate made _her person_ Rachel Berry? Or was God just amusing himself in Quinn's panic.

She dragged her pillow over her face, and screamed into it.

There was a buzz of her phone on the dresser which was probably a good thing because she may have well suffocated herself. Quinn reached slightly and opened the text message.

_Cedes:_

'Q, can you come on Skype? I really need to see your face right now'

Quinn frowned; this was strange, Mercedes usually just called her, had Santana finally convinced her that Skype was so much better; because it was free?

Quinn rolled from her dooner and sat down at her desk, opening her laptop and waiting for the screen to buzz out of the blackness; she double clicked her Skype icon and stared at her profile for more than two minutes.

Mercedes popped up before Quinn had the chance to think of another status. Quinn had to lean into the screen, god was she crying?

"Cedes?" Quinn demanded, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Oh god if her dog died this was going to be an absolute nightmare.

"Go on my Facebook page," she barely whispered.

Confused, Quinn opened another tab and signed in, she clicked to Mercedes' profile, and aside from smirking at a comment Kurt had left regarding is depression over wearing the same outfit twice this week she saw what she was referring to.

Someone from Vocal Adrenaline had posted in their status about Mercedes.

'_McKinley High will need a forklift to make sure we can cedes their performance'_

Quinn's cheeks flamed red, that fucking status didn't even make sense.

She went straight back to Mercedes.

"Cedes, you listen to me, they are just doing this to bring you down, don't you dare listen to them,"

Mercedes waved a hand, "I can take it mostly, but I don't know, today wasn't the best days and I just didn't need it,"

"Mercedes," Quinn said firmly, "You are beautiful,"

Mercedes shrugged, "I just didn't need that to be all over people's feed, maybe I should just stop eating all together, that will shut them up,"

Facebook made Quinn so angry, it was originally designed as a website to connect with friends, not post hurtful things on other people's pages. But that was the way of their generation wasn't it, they used the internet and they used social networking to hurt people. Principal Figgins was right, sometimes words stung more. Bruises healed, your skin rejuvenated itself, but words seeped into your skin, and most of the time, they stuck for a while.

Was it so hard for the world to realise that people come in different shapes and sizes, that most girls struggled with their body weight, all because they didn't have anyone to turn around and say you know what, you look really pretty today.

How hard is it?

Honestly?

How hard is to smile at someone walking down the street, or compliment a girl in your class. When was anyone going to realise that one comment could make or break someone's day.

It takes years to build confidence, and seconds to destroy it.

Quinn hated herself right now; she hated herself for teasing girls when she was younger, just because she thought she was better than them.

"Mercedes can I tell you something?" Quinn asked and Mercedes nodded gently.

"When I was preg…" god she still couldn't even come to terms saying that, she started again, "When you start eating for somebody else so that they can grow and be healthy, your relationship to food changes. I realized that if I was still willing to eat right to take care of that baby, why was I not willing to do it for myself? So maybe things changed," she paused, because that was the understatement of the year, "But I still believe that my body isn't anyone's other than mine, and I had to learn to accept it,"

"But Quinn, you're flawless," Mercedes whispered.

Quinn shook her head, "And you're not? Look at you Cedes, look at you when you stand up in front of Glee Club and blow us all away,"

She smiled slightly and Quinn grinned, that smile was so infectious.

"You helped me Mercedes, you had my back when well…"

"I couldn't remember the last time you said two words to me that weren't "you" and "suck"," she smirked and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Well clearly you just don't suck do you, diva" she grinned and Mercedes laughed.

"Cedes," Quinn said, looking at her through the screen, "I use to think I fit in, that I was popular because I was god's gift to mankind, but then I realised that I didn't fit in as much as what I thought I did," she paused slightly, trying to figure out where she was going with this, "I think I became superhuman when I found out I was pregnant. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, like I was Velcro and people's eyes couldn't help but stick every time I walked the hallways. I could hear every whisper about me being either a slut or a whore even if they were said from miles away. I would disappear and become invisible, even if I was standing right next to someone,"

Mercedes lips were quivering, great big pools of tears sloshing down the side of her face.

"I was a mutant who fell into acid, I was the bionic girl who didn't have any limbs but still had a heart, and even now I'm like the joker, who can't remove her mask. I was once normal, until I realised that normal doesn't make you anybody, normal doesn't make you, well you,"

Mercedes pressed her hand to the screen, and Quinn reciprocated her, "I've got your back Q," she said.

Quinn shrugged, "And I've got yours,"

* * *

><p>"COACH SYLVESTER IS A JUDGE WE ARE ALL DOOMED!"<p>

"For crying out loud hobbit calm down!" Santana muttered, as they fidgeted backstage.

"How can I calm down, this is going to be a complete and utter disaster, and my Dads are here and I'm literally going to…"

"You are literally going to close your trap or I will throw you off the stage," Santana grumbled.

"San!" Brittany said hopping over to her, "Stop being nervous, you're being mean!"

Santana smirked slightly, holding her pinkie out, to which Brittany took it.

Quinn watched from near the curtain, she watched Rachel's eyes on them, and she felt her stomach give out at that look, that look that had heartbreak written all over her face.

"_Fuck Quinn you are such a moron"_ she whispered to herself.

"Rachel, please focus, and don't give up, because you're like our number one hope right now," Mercedes said, "Without you we're doomed, not the other way round,"

Normally Rachel would beam at a comment like this, but she didn't, her shoulders simply slumped and she stormed from the stage.

"Where is she going?" Puck demanded.

"Diva fit," Kurt moaned.

Rachel was dragged back only moments later by Mr Schuester.

"We need to focus," he reasoned.

"I'm so nervous I think I might actually throw up on stage,"

Quinn glanced at Tina, "It's okay," she offered, "We'll be great,"

"Vocal Adrenaline posted on their Facebook page that they were bringing eggs," Rachel squirmed, "I don't think I can handle…."

"Listen here, treasure trail!" Quinn rounded angrily, "We're about to have a smack down, and your whining isn't helping, pull yourself the hell together,"

Quinn hated the look she was giving Rachel. Or the fact she'd just insulted her again. She hated herself, because she was contradicting everything she had thought about the past few days.

About how words hurt.

Here she was hurting Rachel on purpose, because she was trying to go back to the part where Rachel was an annoying girl in her class, and not someone who she apparently had feelings for. The verbal smack seemed to wake Rachel back up again though, because she took her position next to Finn and nodded. When the curtain was raised, the lights almost blinded Quinn, she felt like turning back around and not participating in the _Journey_ tribute songs they had all decided to sing. But maybe that was the point of all of this, just _Don't Stop Believing_. Through the war waging in her mind, Quinn saw something that made her feet plant themselves to the stage. She saw what she had wanted all year.

She saw her parents sitting in the front row.

**. . .**

Quinn stood on the stage, waiting for the judges to reveal who had won. She could feel the rest of her classmates trembling around her, and she smirked as she saw Kurt tapping his toes. She suddenly felt a hand slide around her shoulder. She'd know that touch, even if she was so drunk, she would never forget it. She looked up at Puck as he smiled down at her.

"This is it," he whispered.

"Did you ever love me?" she asked softly.

He looked at her and she knew; she knew that he was just a boy trying to figure out what he wanted in life just like her. And even if a mistake had been made, maybe they could work out how to support each other in a friendship.

"Yes," He said looking at her, "Especially now,"

**. . .**

Quinn sat on stools with the rest of the Glee Club, facing Mr Schue.

It was over.

They hadn't won regionals.

Sophomore Year was over, school was out for the summer and Glee Club was ending, how could this be?

Rachel cleared her throat slightly, "Mr Schuester," she said, "We don't care what the judges say: we won. Because we had you as a teacher."

"Glee Club will never end Mr Schue," Mercedes sobbed, "Because you are Glee Club,"

And then Rachel started to sing,

_Those school girl days_

_Of telling tales and biting nails are gone_

_But in my mind I know_

_They will still live on and on_

Quinn stared at her, Christ why was she such a good singer?

_But how do you thank someone_

_Who has taken you_

_From crayons to perfume?_

_Oh, it isn't easy but I'll try_

_If you wanted the sky would write across the sky in letters_

Quinn didn't want to go back to the sky; she wanted to take _her person_ with her.

_That would soar a thousand feet high_

_To sir, with love_

Quinn looked back at Mr Schuester, how was she supposed to go back to not having him as a teacher, she couldn't do it, she couldn't be without someone who had introduced her to people who made her feel special.

_The time has come_

_For closing books and long_

_Last looks must end_

_Quinn didn't want this to end_

_And as I leave, I know that_

_I am leaving my best friend_

She was leaving her best friends, god what had her life been without them?

_A friend who taught me right from wrong_

_And weak from strong that's a lot to learn_

Santana was crying, Santana never cried.

_What can I give you in return?_

_If you wanted the moon_

_I would try to make a start but I_

_Would rather you let give my heart_

_To sir, with love_

Quinn hung her head, like the rest of her class mates, hanging their heads because there was nothing to hold them up anymore.

Suddenly there was a clap from the back of the auditorium, and everyone's eyes squinted past the light, Coach Sylvester marched down the aisles.

"You've got one more year Gleeks," she said staring at them, "Don't fail again,"

Quinn had never felt more relief in her life, she didn't even have the chance to process anything though, because Santana and Brittany had picked her clean up off the stool and spun her around in dizzy circles.

**. . .**

"Summer's starting Little B, let's just forget about the world for a while,"

Quinn stared at Kurt, as they walked along the footpath heading towards her grandfather's. They had decided not to jump in the car with Mercedes for carpooling, instead they had decided to trek it home in the afternoon sunlight.

"_It'll be like a road trip on legs,"_ he had grinned, and his face was simply too adorable to refuse.

"I can't forget things," Quinn reasoned.

"You can and you will, we'll spend days with Snips, and chess and peach ice tea, it will be bliss,"

God Quinn liked this idea, she liked this idea so much it made it easier not to think of Rachel, and those lips, god those…

"Quinn?"

"Yes!" she said, "Yes it will be kiss… bliss, I mean bliss!"

Kurt frowned at her, "You and your mind need to figure out some sort of balance Little B,"

Quinn laughed slightly, god was this true.

Her phone sounded in her pocket and she reached down to retrieve the message, she stopped walking a little when she saw who had messaged her.

_Berry:_

'Maybe we can be friends next year'.

"Hurry up Little B! Snips would have already put the kettle on!"

Quinn placed her phone back in her pocket, after everything Rachel still gave her credit; Rachel still made the effort with her. As Quinn hurried up to Kurt, she had this unrelenting feeling, that maybe she _could_ be in love with Rachel Berry.

Jesus.


	13. Chapter 12

Okay so, I believe Quinn is someone who doesn't rush into things. So this means you, as my Little Readers, will need to use your _patience is a virtue_ attitude ;)

Also! Yes Brittana just makes me all happy and stuff and I know a lot of you 'ship' (is that the right word, gosh darn I'm only just catching up on the fandoms lingo lol) Brittana more than Faberry, which is why I'm trying to put Brittana into this story as much as possible (okay so how many times did I just say say Brittana? Haha Brittana Brittana Brittana!)

Okay now back to Faberry!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 12<strong>

Summer Time

_Maybe we all suffer the fear of falling in love, not because of whom, but because of ourselves_

* * *

><p>Kurt had made them watch <em>Bring it On<em> for the fifth time that afternoon. Quinn loved it, honestly, it helped with ideas and everything, but considering she was still not Cheerio's captain and they had lost the Cheerleading finals, this was not a movie that she particularly wanted to watch to raise her spirits. Clearly Santana felt the same way.

"Kurtastical," she moaned as he went to press the replay button, "This just makes me depressed,"

"But Eliza Dushku is quite attractive," Brittany offered.

"Not as attractive as me," Santana said raising her eyebrows and Brittany grinned, "100% true!"

This movie made Quinn rage with thoughts, and mainly because it sort of reciprocated their own high school life.

How sad.

Ask any random teenager today if they want to be popular, and they'll more than likely tell you no. Even if the real truth is that, if they were stuck on a deserted island, and forced to choose between a bottle of water or instant popularity, they would probably choose option B. People can't admit to wanting it though, because doesn't that make you less cool? If you're going to be popular, it has to look as though it's something you _are_ when if you were really honest with yourself, it's something you've in actual fact _made yourself_. Quinn sometimes wondered if anyone worked as hard as what teenagers did to be popular.

God even their nations president took a vacation, and yet here teenagers were putting in all their time, for the entire length of the school year, and then spending all of summer planning on how they were going to rise the ranks again.

Quinn hated that she was thinking it too. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that popularity wasn't up to her. Popularity was what everyone thought of how she dressed, what she would eat for lunch, what music was on her iPod, what TV shows she thought were cool.

The strangest part about the whole thing though, the one that Quinn had never really understood, was that if everyone else's opinion was what truly mattered, then how in the hell could anyone every really have an opinion of their own?

Brittany did the splits on her bedroom floor, "Like this," she said proudly and Santana nodded.

"So flexible,"

Quinn was trying to decipher whether that was meant to be a sexual connotation or not, and then she nearly died as her own thoughts wandered to wondering how flexible Rachel was.

Shit.

"Tubbs!" Kurt said suddenly as Brittany's cat stalked into the room.

Lord Tubbington, the be all and end all of spoilt cats.

He reached down to pick him up, struggling slightly under the weight.

"I put him on a diet the other day, I think he's handling it well," Brittany beamed.

Quinn bit her lip, "Britts, Tubbs is looking more like a breadbox on wheels if anything,"

Brittany leant over and covered his ears defensively, "Q, he's sensitive!"

Santana shot Quinn a quizzical look as if to say lay off my adopted child, it caused Quinn to smirk.

Kurt stood up suddenly, pointed the remote to the television and flicked to the scene where the '_spirit fingers'_ song played.

"Everybody," he instructed.

Santana laughed rising to her feet and pulling Brittany with her.

Quinn watched the three of them for a moment, awkwardly trying to copy what the dancers in _Bring it On_ were doing. Santana and Brittany had dance in their blood, especially Britt, and Kurt just looked like one of those dancing popsicles you see on the old Wendy's ads.

Was there any justification on who your friends were? In moments like these did it really matter if you were popular, or not popular, or confused, you liked wearing makeup or you didn't? You had one taste in music, or you had another taste in music. Wasn't high school about trying to figure out who made you smile? There's so much heart break in the world, surely finding comfort in people who made you laugh was better than being popular? God Quinn didn't know anymore.

"Little B, get up off the floor immediately," Kurt insisted, and Quinn felt Brittany reef her to her feet.

"Inner spirit animal Quinn," Santana said, to which Brittany's face clouded over,

"Oh," she said happily, "Does this mean I can be a unicorn for the rest of the afternoon?"

"You can be whoever you want to be," Quinn responded, and she answered her own question without realising.

* * *

><p>Quinn scuffed her feet along the platform, watching a small wren as it tried to walk through the poppies to reach the other side of the tracks. After a moment, it gave up, spread its wings and flew away. Quinn found herself watching it fly into the air. God sometimes she wished she really was what Kurt constantly called her, '<em>Little Bird'. <em>Sometimes she was so jealous of how birds could spread their wings at will and take off into the sky. Freedom was in the sky, god Quinn just wanted freedom. The platform had been relatively quiet today, except for the few workmen who had boarded about forty minutes ago, to head to the mines just offshore from Cleveland.

"_Leaving my new born"_ she had heard one of them say and it had made her skin crawl.

Some days Quinn could spend hours here, watching the things that surrounded the platform and making up stories in her head. A few summer's ago, she had arrived with her notebook and had seen two East Indian men on the far north of platform. They had this huge floor rug stretched out between them. They were beating the rug with this huge wooden stick. She sat on the cement and watched them from afar, wondering what in god's name they were beating a rug for. Not long after she had started to draw them on her notebook, the platform manager had come out and started yelling at them. _"What's the matter men?"_ he had yelled, _"Won't it start,"_

Quinn had grinned so broadly, and instantly pretended that the rug was really a flying carpet, and these men had broken down on their way to some far off land. Maybe that was why she disappeared to her _south side of anywhere_, because all the people here could be anyone she made them to be.

The sound of a familiar voice caused her to look up slightly, and tilt her ears. No one was speaking, but someone was definitely singing. She knew that voice; she'd heard it in nearly every single Glee Club lesson this year.

"_I wish I was a headlight on a northbound train,_

_I'd shine my light in the cool Colorado rain,"_

Quinn walked towards the voice tentatively, before she popped her head around the corner and saw Finn sitting on the bench. She wasn't so sure whether she wanted to share her _south side of anywhere_ with him. Looking at him though, there was something wrong.

"Finn?"

He looked up, startled and then when he realised it was Quinn, he seemed to relax.

"Hey," he muttered.

Quinn stared him, as he sat slumped on the bench, his arms folded across his great big chest.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He looked at her, "What's wrong with you?"

Quinn bit the inside of her lip, "Nothing has to be wrong with me Hudson, I've been coming here to think way before you have,"

Finn sighed slightly, "Rachel broke up with me,"

Quinn stilled.

"What?"

"Yesterday," he muttered, "She came over, and everything seemed fine, but then she said she couldn't keep doing it to me, lying to me, and pretending,"

God he looked so heartbroken.

"Did she give you a reason?" she asked tentatively and he shrugged.

"Not really, she just said that someone else had stolen her heart,"

Quinn froze, "Did she say who?"

He shook his head, "No, she said they had run away with her heart, and she was going to spend eternity searching for them,"

Oh god, Quinn thought what the hell had she done.

She sat down next to him, allowing the silence to envelope them. Quinn didn't really have an answer for Finn, more so she thought she knew what was going through Rachel's head. Maybe _loved_ is a past tense that should never be used. Maybe if you really love someone, you never actually stop loving them.

Quinn really wanted to fly away, right about now.

* * *

><p>"Snips where do you keep the biscuits?" Kurt yelled from inside the house.<p>

Quinn smirked as her grandfather gave her an exasperated look, "The boy is here just as much as you are, you would think he would know where the biscuits are!"

"Pop tarts Grandad," she reasoned, "Kurt can only locate pop tarts, anything else just seems foreign,"

"Left cupboard," he called back, and Kurt seemed to go back to rummaging.

"Pop," she said tentatively, as he reset the chess board again, and filled her glass with more ice tea.

"Mmmm?" he asked.

"Is it possible to be afraid of love?"

Her grandad looked at her with one of his quizzical looks, as though teenage girls were perhaps the strangest species alive.

"Afraid of love?" he repeated and Quinn nodded.

Her grandad sighed, "Quinnie," he reasoned, "Are you still in love with that hoof of a quarterback boy?"

Quinn grinned, oh how Finn always seemed to tick her grandfather off, _"Quinnie,"_ he would say, _"How do you have conversations with him?"_

Quinn was too caught up in her own social climbing to notice that she and Finn didn't have proper conversations.

"Pop, he's not a hoof, just a little lost,"

"Yes but…"

"And no I'm not in love with Finn, I can't say I ever really was," she replied, "But I care about him though Pop," she added, and she couldn't believe she was actually admitting that.

"Well," he asked, "Whose the lucky guy?"

Quinn bit her lip, would there ever be a time in society, where there would be no assumptions for girls just dating boys and boys just dating girls, and instead someone would ask 'who's the lucky human?'

"No one really Pop," she responded, because this was true wasn't it. Rachel was definitely not a guy. Christ there'd been a time when Quinn believed she wasn't even human, she was this crazy alien girl who talked too fast and too much and pranced around in freaking animal sweaters.

"Quinnie," he mused after a moment, "I read something the other day, on your friend Santana's ipaddle..."

"Ipad," Quinn smirked.

"Yes that, and it was this article about some phobia," he paused a moment, trying to remember, and then he raised his hand, "Philophobia!"

Quinn frowned, "Phila-what? Pop are you remembering vacations to Philadelphia?"

"No, no!" he said impatiently, "Philophobia, it is the fear of emotional attachments, the fear of being, or falling in love,"

Quinn froze slightly, _Christ there was such thing as that?_

"How is it cured," she found herself asking.

Her grandfather shrugged, "By realising that love is all the world has left,"

Quinn bit her lip as Kurt finally found his way back to the porch, carrying an assortment of biscuits and packaging.

"My word Kurtis," her grandfather said his eyes wide, "You'll break my pension with the amount you eat!"

Kurt grinned, "Snips, who knew you were as assorted as the muffin man!"

Quinn burst out laughing at her grandfather's reaction.


	14. Chapter 13

Attention Little Readers!

I blame my being born into the wrong hemisphere for my mistake...

Okay so a couple of my faithful reviewers (can I name you, or not? Ah welp!) kindly pointed out that I was missing junior year… LOL... I was like what is this junior year you speak of?

Ahh I'm such an idiot.

Dear America, please forgive me? (you better forgive me, I'm moving to one of your states in four months!) Anyway I just went through all chapters and re did the parts about whatever I was going on about to do with senior year… realistically there were only a few word changes, and the main point I'm trying to make is NO Quinn is not nearly graduating lol I will include Junior year as well (following the show... again HA! at my idiocy)

BEHOLD this is good news…

Also everyone in Glee Club is the same age in this story, I know it's a little different in the show, but to me a freshman is a '_really cool guy_' LOL ;) so I want to keep it as simple as possible or I will confuse myself!

AND it also means I now have two years to play with not one!

PRAISE GRILLED CHEESUS!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 13<strong>

Summer Time

_Backyard propositions and fireflies_

* * *

><p>The summer sun was still burning, and it was late afternoon. This past week had been windless, warm, the sky without a cloud. If you had squinted long enough, you might have been able to see that the blue had been veiled with a haze of light gold, as if the weather was trying to look extra pretty, just because it was summer. Quinn's favourite thing about summer was the smell of fresh lawns. Gardeners had been up since dawn, mowing the lawns and sweeping them, until the grass and the flower beds all seemed to shine. Her grandfather had planted a rose bush last summer, and so now, it had all but blossomed into this great sea of bright red, they looked like kisses spread wide across his front yard.<p>

"_Roses take the longest to blossom Quinnie,"_ he had said earlier in the week, as she lay on his porch engrossed in Roald Dahl's _Big Friendly Giant_.

"_But when they do they are the most beautiful in the garden,"_

She'd thought about his comment for the rest of the week.

Quinn now sat on Santana's floor running the straightener through her hair. It had been so long since she had been bothered to actually do something with it. Usually it just fell about her shoulders, not even caring how it sat or where it landed. Suddenly Santana walked back into the room and sat down beside her.

She stared at Quinn in the mirror.

"What?" Quinn asked glaring at her.

Santana took a deep breath, "So I know sometimes it's a little difficult to talk to me, because well," she paused slightly, "I'm preoccupied, but I do think about you and what you're going through…"

Quinn was a little confused, "San, I'm not sure I get where you're coming from,"

Santana bit her lip, trying to communicate what she was thinking, "This is Puck's party, the last time we went to this, well…"

Quinn saw the light, and instantly she softened, "San," she reasoned, "It's okay,"

"No its not," Santana sighed, "Because I haven't touched base with you in so long. I'm sorry okay, it's just when you had…" Santana trailed off.

"Had the miscarriage," Quinn prompted, "Santana it's okay, we can say it,"

Santana took a deep breath, "When you had the miscarriage, I had never felt like that before, like looking at you in so much pain and me feeling it too. I know I can be mean and nasty at the best of times, but I care about what happens to you Q. Just know that,"

Quinn reached over and hugged her tightly, "You don't need to say it Santana, I just know it," she whispered.

Santana seemed to relax against her slightly, and even though it was true, that Quinn really did know, it secretly felt so good to hear Santana say it.

Brittany bounded into the room. She looked _freaking_ amazing.

Quinn loved how every time they would get dressed up, no matter how many of these parties they had been too, as soon as Santana saw Brittany her jaw always dropped.

"Baby," she muttered.

"Quinn, I'm not drinking tonight, you and me are going to be sober," she said smiling.

Santana seemed a little disappointed.

"Britts, you don't have to do that, just have a couple, it's fine, I'll drive," Quinn reasoned.

Brittany waved a hand, "No I need to be up early tomorrow, I have something planned for San…" she trailed off, realising that Santana was actually in the room.

"Planned for Santa Claus," she tried.

Santana smirked, "Forgiven," she muttered.

* * *

><p>Quinn stared at Puck's house as she pulled Brittany's car into the curb. It was funny how they drove each other's cars more than they drove their own. Maybe it was a sign of trust you know, letting someone share something that had such an effect on the way you lived your life.<p>

"Are you okay?" Santana said from the backseat and Quinn glanced at her through the review mirror.

"She's going to be fine," Kurt replied from the passenger seat, and he leant over and squeezed her thigh.

God Quinn hoped so.

Quinn often wondered, how many people in high school ever thought that the person sitting next to them in class could read their mind. Like they knew what you were thinking, and every day they just pretended they didn't. You go through school, wrapped up in bubble wrap, and you experience all these different emotions, and different feelings which all just lead to a graduation.

A graduation of what exactly?

Finishing one chapter and moving onto the next one that might be as equally challenging?

Summer was nearly finished, she was going to be a junior, and all she could think about was how easily people could read her.

Was she an opened or shut book?

Sometimes though, she would put aside her worries about what the next two years held and try to live in the moment, try to live because that's what young people were supposed to do right?

Just live?

Then she would come back to the one thing she had known all along. That there was a big wide world out there. It was bigger than junior and senior prom, bigger than graduation and bigger than high school, and it wouldn't matter if you were senior class president, you sung in a Glee Club or you were quarterback of a football team; the world was waiting for you anyway. You needed to find out who you were, and try not to be so afraid of it.

Quinn wanted to know who the hell she was. She had two years though right?

Jesus was that long enough?

Puck's house had always been perfect for the end of summer parties, just because he had this huge deck, and spa bath, and his parents were so laid back. Granted they'd only started having these parties a few years ago, and the crowd had definitely changed since then. Two years ago, Kurt would have rather snapped his favourite shoes in half than attend one of these parties, and now he couldn't hurry them along quick enough. Quinn followed Santana up the driveway, as she opened the side gate. The music was already blaring, and Quinn could smell the alcohol. It had been so long since she had been exposed to it; it made her feel slightly queasy. God it was as if she was this old woman coming to hang with the kids. She was just a kid herself!

Quinn eyed the red plastic cups that littered the ground. Maybe the whole exposed to alcohol thing just depended on your surroundings. Puck had older college brother's, whose friends were all here at the moment, and all drinking. It wasn't as if Quinn was an alcoholic, a few parties here and there with a couple of drinks didn't hurt anyone did it?

_Yes Quinn, that's how you go pregnant._

She gritted her teeth at herself, all these thoughts in her head, made her seem crazy.

Santana had already located their friends, sitting in a circle just left of Puck's deck, around one of those huge green lanterns, his Dad had picked up at a camping store.

Kurt pulled a chair for Quinn, while Brittany curled onto Santana's lap.

"How's your summer been?" Mike smiled, before handing Santana a cup.

Quinn shrugged, "Slow,"

"Better without maths though right?"

Quinn smirked at him, god they say maths just gets harder.

"You ready for school? Mr Schuester has all these huge plans now we're juniors," Mercedes asked them and they glared at her,

"I'm ready for it to be summer 24/7" Santana mumbled.

"But school means Glee San," Brittany quipped kissing her softly.

Quinn glanced around the circle slightly, the usuals were here; well what defines usual is just all mixed up now anyway. Artie was playing some clapping game with Tina, while Mike looked on confused; Kurt was admiring Mercedes' new bling; Quinn was with San and Britt and Puck was nearby having a mock sword fight with his brother. In the space that should have been Finn and Rachel, it was just Finn, silently toying with his phone.

"Is he okay?" Quinn asked and Artie looked at her.

"Love sucks," he shrugged.

_Amen._

"Where's Rachel?" Brittany asked taking the words directly out of Quinn's mouth.

Finn looked up almost immediately, "She was talking to college guys,"

Quinn saw that look of jealously even if he hadn't meant to show it.

**. . .**

Quinn stared at her playing cards; three 5's, a queen and a jack, damn she was stuck.

If Quinn was really honest with herself, she knew she was just an amateur poker player. In reality she sort of just sat there whenever they would all play. Brittany always paired with Santana because she never grasped it, and it was usually Kurt who won anyway.

"Mike! Stop looking at Tina's cards!" Kurt said suddenly.

Mike threw the cards in the air, "I don't care, I'm drunk, Britts can we dance?"

Brittany smiled broadly, bounding up from where she had been snuggled into Santana.

"I've got the mic," Mercedes yelled and Santana immediately stood up, "Wheezy I challenge you,"

Quinn smirked as they ran to grab the karaoke machine from just beside the open kitchen window.

"It's only because I was winning!" Kurt said irritably.

"Kurt get over here," Finn said to him, "I want to know, how to figure out the hockey scores,"

Kurt rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed his game had been cut short, "Well firstly you need to have an IQ…"

Quinn nearly choked on the lemonade she had been sipping.

Tina sighed, "Okay well I promised Puck to a _shot off_, so I'll be back,"

"Tina," Quinn warned, "He drinks like a fish…"

She smiled slightly, "I know my limits Q, it's okay,"

As Quinn watched her trail away, she wondered if that was meant to be a jab or not. Even so she wished last year she had known hers. Quinn sat back in the chair a moment, toying with the rips in her jeans. Her mother hated these jeans.

"_Quin they're too tight, and they are ripped,"_ she would say.

"_They're supposed to be ripped,"_ Quinn would argue.

"_Please just let me sew some material…"_

And then Quinn would moan and storm from the room because her mum just didn't get it.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure stumble from the back door and with a small jolt she realised Rachel was now on the deck. Correct a _very drunk Rachel_ was now on the deck.

Quinn looked to Finn and Kurt, but they were too engrossed in Finn's Iphone.

'_God'_ Quinn muttered and she kicked back from the chair.

Rachel seemingly managed to stumble down the back steps, past a college couple making out, and was now wobbling down the side entrance from where Quinn had entered previously with the others.

"Treasure trail…" and then Quinn stopped herself, damn reflexes!

"Rachel," she tried again.

Rachel didn't seem to hear her, because she kept stumbling forward, "RACHEL!" Quinn said louder, _dammit listen to me you little_, Quinn stopped her thoughts and ran to her.

Rachel looked at slightly, "Quinnts," she slurred.

"Rachel you are drunk," Quinn said looking at her, Christ that shirt was so cute tonight, when did she own a cute shirt?

"And you have never been drunk Quinnts?"

"My name is Quinn," she replied looking at her.

"Yes but that sounds like quint, which means five," Rachel rambled, "I should just call you fives…"

Quinn rolled her eyes; that was the most ridiculous analogy she had ever…

"Oh," Rachel said smiling, "A star has five points, did you know that? I love stars…"

Quinn fucking melted.

"You're pretty like a star Quinn, even if you hate me…."

_God that top on you, I want to rip it off, _Quinn nearly fainted at her own thoughts, _stop it, stop it, stop it!_

Rachel slid down the side of the fence, landing in a heap against the wall.

"I dumped Finn," she said matter-o-factly.

Quinn sat down next to her.

"Why?" she asked.

Rachel snorted, "Oh you wouldn't believe me or care if I say a sentence about the reasoning behind…"

"Try me," she cut her off.

Quinn didn't care, Rachel was drunk, and she would say as many things as Quinn wanted her to. God was this taking advantage of her?

Rachel hiccupped softly, "Because someone else stole my heart away,"

"Who?"

Rachel giggled, "That's the best part… I don't know," and then she stopped, literally she just stopped moving, and she had this faraway look glaze across her eyes, "But they know me, they found out who I was and then stopped replying"

Quinn chewed the inside of her lip.

"I wish I was like you Quinn, if they had of found out it was you, they wouldn't have run away,"

"You don't know that," she replied under her breath, but Rachel didn't reply.

"They made me feel not so alone," she said, hiccupping again.

"Why did you feel alone Rachel, you had Finn?"

Rachel shook her head, "I told him a secret and he told me to never think about it, and I wanted to talk about it, and listen no one will,"

Quinn frowned, well that made no sense.

Suddenly Rachel leant really close to her, so close Quinn could taste the vodka she had been drinking.

"Did you know my Mum is the Vocal Adrenaline coach? I found out like six months ago… what are the odds!" She laughed slightly, like one of those mental people, that had just been told they were going to spend the rest of their life in a padded room.

Quinn had to curl her fists into the grass to recover, what the hell!

"Is that why you've been so quiet Rachel?"

Rachel shrugged, "I guess. But then I had my person, and they made all the hurt go away, and now… now they're gone…"

Quinn was suffocating under her own hands around her throat, strangling herself, you're horrible person should have just been stamped across her fore head.

"_Your person_?" Quinn barely managed.

"My person, whose not my person, but will be my person," she slurred.

Quinn stared at her through the night air. Puck's house was just off centre to an acre of woods, and in the night, his backyard would be filled with all these little fireflies, that glowed yellow. Right now, they were reflected on Rachel's face, it was almost like she was covered in tiny golden stars.

Quinn was frozen looking at her, and then Rachel started to ramble lyrics. Quinn leant closer to hear what she was singing.

_Cause all of the stars are fading away_

_Just try not to worry you'll see them some day_

_Take what you need and be on your way_

_And stop crying your heart out_

_Try not to worry you'll see them some day_

Quinn closed her eyes, dammit Quinn she's familiar with Oasis; would you do something about this already.

And then Rachel did the one thing that seemed to evaporate all Quinn's nice little feelings. She leant over, and threw up all over Quinn's shoes.


	15. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

High School, Junior Year

_It takes courage to obtain the things you want; but are they really the things you need?_

* * *

><p>Quinn stared at her Cheerio's uniform hanging in her closet. First day of junior year and she was going to demand her captaincy back. She tied her hair into a pony tail, pulled the uniform from the closet and dressed into it. For fifteen minutes she stood staring at herself in the mirror. Then she glanced at the small box, peeking out from under her bed, the box that had been filled with three months' worth of letter's to <em>her person<em>, a whole summer worth of letter's to Rachel Berry, because she couldn't stop writing them. Some she found herself flirting, others she was more serious, and most of them were just stained with tears because she was so confused she didn't even know what else to do.

"Little B?"

Quinn turned slightly, as Kurt popped his head around the door.

"You're not answering your phone?"

Quinn looked to her bed side and saw her phone flashing, it must have still been left on silent, or otherwise she was deaf.

Kurt glanced at her, he trailed his eyes up and down, before raising his eyebrows, "I spy with my little eyes, someone who is going to make a statement,"

Quinn shrugged, "It's who I am,"

Kurt bit his lip, "But Quinn you're more than that,"

"No I don't mean that Kurt," she responded, "I just mean that The Cheerio's should be under my lead, simple as that,"

Kurt took a deep breath, "Well hurry up them, Cedes is waiting,"

Quinn took one last look in her mirror, the image of her sophomore year fading and instead being replaced what she was trying to achieve this year.

**. . .**

A while ago, someone once told Quinn that everyone sees what they know, and what they know gives them comfort. What if one day you woke up and decided to see things differently? If you suddenly took off your glasses; and you replaced your eyes with new ones, and all of a sudden everything you thought you knew, became something entirely different.

It happens though doesn't it, someone tries to confine you through _"you cannot do this, you cannot do that,"_ or _"you're not good enough,"_ or _"Smart enough"_ or _"pretty enough"._ Everyone around you tries to mould you according to their own expectations and beliefs.

All last year, Quinn had struggled with how to react to that mould. She wondered if for a while, she had started to believe it, started to give into the confinement. When you're in high school, you just want to fit the mould don't you? You just want to fit the mould that seems right?

Quinn stood out Coach Sylvester's office. She didn't want to fit a particular mould. She wanted her _own_ mould. She wanted to hand craft her own beliefs and no one was going to stand in her damn way. She knocked three times and heard an "open it," issued from behind the oak door. Taking a quick breath, she pushed open the threshold and mentally prepared herself for battle.

She hadn't even stepped properly into the room and already Sue was glaring at her uniform like Quinn had just walked into the room naked.

"What did I say last year sister? I don't want you anywhere near my squad. You'll deafen them with the sound of your stretch marks rubbing together,"

Quinn gritted her teeth, "The baby never grew properly to give me stretch marks!"

Sue seemed to close her mouth slightly.

"I am the rightful captain of The Cheerio's and you know this Coach Sylvester,"

Sue raised her eyebrows, "The rightful captain for teen pregnancy you mean?"

Quinn kicked her foot against the desk, upsetting Ms Sylvester's papers, she looked slightly aghast at Quinn's unexpected reaction.

"You LOST without me," she yelled, "The Cheerio's went under, you LOST your national title, and broke your winning streak, you want to win this year and the next? Put me back as Captain!"

Sue thought on this a moment, bringing her biro to her mouth and chewing on it slightly.

"And why should I Q? What's so different from you and Amber?"

Quinn gritted her teeth, she didn't want to say what she was about to, but she was desperate wasn't she? She thought back to earlier this morning, with her morning meeting with Jacob.

"_Give me the details of summer,"_ she had snapped and he had raised his eyebrows, _"only if you hook up with me,"_

"_I'll tell everyone you still wet the bed if you don't" _

He had completely frozen, and then rattled off a list worth of gossip on a hundred different students.

Quinn only wanted one list.

"My bags are real," she said and she pushed her breasts upwards.

Ms Sylvester raised her eyebrows, "OH FOR THE LOVE OF UNDER AGE IMPLANTS," she hissed, slamming down her pen.

Quinn had done it.

Sue Sylvester had put into each of their _'contracts'_ that there was to be nothing implanted into anything, because it made them seem like plastic barbie dolls and she had wanted naturally 'protein shaked' bionic wonder women. She had also specifically said no alcohol or pregnancies, but Quinn didn't dare mention any of this.

"Okay Q," she said, "Tomorrow afternoon practice, you're on,"

**. . .**

"You did this to me! You told Coach Sylvester about my summer surgery!"

Quinn felt something push into her, as she closed her locker doors, god almighty she hadn't even reached lunch break and already Amber had found out.

Quinn glared at her, "You have surgery when you get your appendix out. You got a boob job,"

Amber flared, "and what the hell are you going to do about it stretch marks?"

"Take my place back,"

Amber gritted her teeth and before Quinn could even register a defence mechanism, she slapped her across the face.

The pain wilted through her left cheek, and she immediately snapped back at her.

"You can't hit me!"  
>"Oh, sure I can," she said, "Unless you got yourself knocked up again. Slut."<p>

Quinn saw red again, and she dropped her binder books to the ground, slamming Amber up against the other side of the lockers.

"You fucking don't deserve to be on the team at all,"

Amber struggled against Quinn as she gripped onto her hair and pulled.

"Quinn? Amber? What?" Santana had rounded the corner, "Jesus Christ this is worse than Tubbs on an empty stomach, stop!"

Quinn ignored her, as Amber pushed her back into the lockers; Quinn felt the pain streak through her arm, as metal scratched her skin.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

Mr Schuester had suddenly come out into the corridor, students were now gathering, people with phones filming the 'cat fight' and forming a circle around them. Quinn felt Mr Schuester rip them both apart, holding them at arms lengths.

"What in gods name you two? You're cheerio's, aren't you a family?"

"Oh please," Amber responded, "She couldn't even keep a baby, let alone a family,"

Quinn launched for her again, but Mr Schuester was too strong.

"Enough," he said, "Amber get to class right now, before I put you both on detention for the rest of the year,"

"This isn't over," Amber seethed, and she stormed from the corridor.

Mr Schuester let go of Quinn, as she gathered herself, and placed her hands on her hips. God she wanted to rip her head off. Where was all this anger coming from? Where was this red that kept flashing before her. Santana was eying her with this look to suggest she would give her a piece of her mind later.

"Santana go to class," Mr Schuester said, and she nodded at Quinn before snapping at other students standing in the corridors, "Nothing to see here, move along. Move along with your nosey noses…"

"Quinn," Mr Schuester said turning to her, "I want you to attend Tuesday afternoons with Ms Pillsbury,"

Quinn looked at him, "You mean those bullying classes?"

"Yes," he said.

"God Mr Schuester! I've already been to enough counselling I don't…"

"Quinn you just had another physical fight and you've only just started junior year. This behaviour is un-lady like and it's just… you know what I'm so disappointed in you right now, I can't even think of the words I want to say to you,"

Quinn felt the word _disappointed_ slap her harder than what Amber had slapped her.

"Mr Schuester," she said.

"Honestly Q, where are you hey? Where have you gone?

"I'm still here," she responded softly.

He raised his eyebrows, "You sure about that?"

Quinn shoulders slumped slightly, "What time are the sessions?"

"4pm, Tuesday afternoons,"

God almighty that was the same time as Cheerio's practice, she hung her head slightly, what could she do?

Quinn nodded, "I'll be there,"

**. . .**

Quinn sat near the piano, glaring at Brad. Had he cut his hair? Had he dyed it? There was something different. She couldn't pick what it was. She sat staring at him for the better part of ten minutes, while the rest of Glee Club filed into the classroom around her.

Kurt sat down next to her and immediately leant into her ear, "Honestly little bird you are becoming more of a fighter than Brad Pitt. Now Brad Pitt can ponder my ring anytime, but you… what's with you?"

Quinn sighed, "I'm going to the anti-bullying classes," she replied, as though that was supposed to just fix everything.

Kurt shrugged, "Well at least it's a start,"

Before Quinn could respond, everyone had sat down, the chatter had died away and Mr Schuester was standing at the front of the classroom.

"Guys it's a new year, and this means new beginnings," he looked a minute at Quinn before continuing, "I have a lot planned for us this year, but I need all your cooperation, so if you can do that, I'm sure we'll continue to get along!"

There was a ripple of laughter as everyone rocked in their seats slightly.

"Now any stories from Summer?"

"Berry threw up on Quinn's shoes,"

_Oh Santana!_

Rachel went scarlet red, "Santana it was a feasible accident, caused by miscalculated intoxication and I have learnt my lesson,"

Santana rolled her eyes, "That's not what Quinn's shoes said,"

Quinn was caught between smirking and then wanting to tell Rachel that she still sung Oasis so beautifully even when slurring the words, but her facial expression just came out one big mess.

Kurt noticed it and frowned, "was that supposed to be a human face?"

Quinn groaned, "Can we just get on with the lesson?"

Everyone seemed perplexed over her sudden outburst again.

"Yes," Rachel said adamantly, "fives is right,"

"What?" Mercedes asked.

Rachel seemed to freeze half way between walking up to the front of the classroom, "I mean Q," she muttered.

Quinn did not take her eyes off her, Rachel had remembered the small ridiculous nickname she had drunkenly come up with. No it wasn't ridiculous it was completely adorabl…._dammit!_

"I have prepared an opening song," Rachel said, looking to Brad.

She just owned the room. Rachel would just walk into the music room; demand whatever key she wanted to sing in and that was that, everyone fell silent.

"This," Rachel declared, "Was how I spent my summer. Or rather what I spent thinking about in my summer,"

Quinn eyes still did not leave her.

_And that was the day that I promised__  
><em>_I'd never sing of love if it does not exist._

_But darling,__  
><em>

_You are the only exception.__  
><em>_You are the only exception.__  
><em>_You are the only exception.__  
><em>_You are the only exception._

God, Rachel really was the only exception.


	16. Chapter 15

Hey Little Readers!

So just quickly, are there any characters from season two that you would like me to include in this story? I mean there's already characters EVERYWHERE haha, so I'm all goods to carry on my own little way, but I just wanted to know what you guys thought too?

A few of you are PM-ing me or tweeting me, or reaching me by tumblr… which makes me **SWELL**!

I **want to** hear from you guys, all your thoughts mean something to me!

I've already put a few things people wanted to see in the story already. This is your story too guys!

I mean, what's a writer without a reader hey? We go hand in hand :)

belikecourtney (twitter)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 15<strong>

**High School, Junior Year**

_We draw a circle, and we're asked to find an answer, but what's an answer without a question?_

* * *

><p>Quinn stood next to Santana as Ms Sylvester announced she had been reenlisted as Head Cheerleader. Most of the girls clapped, a couple sighed in relief and others nodded in somewhat mild jealousy. From the corner of her eye, Quinn could see Amber shaking her head. This was definitely something she would need to keep an eye on.<p>

"Stretch ladies, we're formulating a pyramid, one hair out of place and you'll all do laps," Ms Sylvester barked.

Brittany instantly did the splits, to which Quinn smirked at Santana trying to look up her skirt. Stretching her arm across to her left, Quinn felt the creaks work their way across her muscles and her bones, she wanted to stretch last year out of her.

"_New beginnings_," Mr Schuester had said, and that was Quinn so badly wanted.

As she stood, stretching her thighs and her back, she thought about something her grandfather had said the other day. He had gone for his regular medical check-up and then asked Quinn to come over immediately afterwards. Thinking something was wrong, she had run the whole way there. Panting and heaving she had staggered onto the porch, only for her grandfather to frown and offer her some peach tea.

"_Pop,"_ she had spluttered, "_What's wrong?"_

"_Quinnie,"_ he had quipped, _"The nurses were telling me the most remarkable stories today. About a heart transplant patient who woke up with an intense love of Italy, when she had never stepped a foot out of Cleveland. And then there was a liver transplant patient, who after surgery, began to crave the same cranberry cocktail that his donor favoured. Isn't that strange to think that the memories stored in our minds, aren't always the ones we've actually had?"_

Quinn could not stop thinking about what he had said. What if all this anger she had for Rachel, all this built up frustration for her, wasn't really supposed to be there at all.

"_Grandad,"_ she had asked, _"Do you think memories are constructed by the people around us? Do you think our feelings can change towards certain memories?"_

What she had meant by this, was that; what if all those times she had sat next to Rachel throughout the years, thinking about how much she hated the sound of her voice, had now turned into her inability to see how much Rachel was ingrained in her memory.

She had always been there hadn't she? Only now, Quinn's memory of her had changed. Maybe memories aren't always stored in our hearts or in our minds. Maybe some memories are left in the spaces between two people, and when reached for, they can be constructed in ways you never thought possible.

"Ready to climb Q?"

Quinn snapped out of her trance and nodded at Santana.

This was it, time to take her spot at the top back. Santana smiled at her, this grin that suggested she had been waiting for this as well. There had been a stage, in Freshman year, when Santana and Quinn hadn't spoken for three days. They'd had an argument over a mis-communication which had left Santana waiting at the bus stop for over three hours. It was a stupid argument to begin with, something that probably wouldn't have needed to have gone on for that long if only they had just said what the other was thinking. Santana had been the one to break the stubborn streak, which was such a surprise because they were both as head strong as each other. It had always been Brittany, growing up, that had been the referee between them.

For such a long time, they had been interwoven, a trinity, a tripod, nothing could ever break them. But then one day, Quinn noticed a slight change in Santana. It was just after they had joined Glee Club. Santana would constantly protest their alliance to the class, "_They're all losers Q,"_ she had said, _"I don't want to be a loser too,"_

But then one day she started to view everyone as her equal, her friends. When that happened, suddenly her relationship with Brittany changed too. Quinn noticed it first, it started with a touch, and then suddenly Santana was looking at Brittany differently. It hadn't always been there, it hadn't always been a case of Santana wanting Brittany, one day she had just woken up and felt differently.

There had never been a time when any three of them, wanted to be in the company of only two.

Until that day.

That day turned into weeks, which turned into months, and suddenly Santana and Brittany were trying to deal with the fact they loved each other. Maybe that's the great big irony of the world, one day you wake up and realise your shoes are too big, and you're someone you never thought you were.

It's not something to be afraid of though is it?

You're supposed to embrace it?

Right now, Quinn wished she was more like Santana Lopez.

"Quinn, aren't you coming today?"

Quinn turned from where she had been watching five of the girls form the base of the pyramid, to see that Rachel had made her way out into the field.

"Can someone direct twinkle toes in the right direction?" Quinn asked and the rest of the Cheerio's sniggered.

Rachel instantly turned white.

Quinn felt some invisible hand come down and smack her across the face. That was such a horrible thing to say. She didn't even recognise those words that had just come out of her mouth.

"But I thought you said you were coming to the meeting today?"

"Are you actually going to that anti bullying meeting Quinn," Riley McKenzie snickered.

_Yes, everyone should, it's supposed to help._

"Not a chance in hell, I'm here with you guys,"

"Get lost dwarf," Riley said, and she stepped in front of Rachel to block her from the circle.

Quinn felt another sword, slice through her chest at the look on Rachel's face as she hung her head and turned away.

Sometimes moments present themselves to you, as though you're an adult looking back at yourself, and thinking, why in the world did I ever do that, or did I ever say that?

Why do we change our colours to please the people around us?

Quinn had finally realised what happens when someone cooks the syrup of cruelty over an open fire of confusion. It solidifies into something that none of us really expect or think possible. It's not hate, like you would expect, nor is it a plea for attention. Rather this cruelty bubbles, turns into thick paste; that is as black as ash, and it isn't until you dip your finger into this syrup, bring it to your lips and feel that intense taste of it dissolving in your mouth, that you understand that this is _anger _in its purest form. It is unrefined, it is raw, and it spreads through your body, until you attack the people you love without meaning to.

Quinn had never been more disappointed in herself than right now. Anger comes in many different forms, but anger used with words defies the very reason why Quinn uses them in the first place. Words were her source of comfort, of refuge; these words of anger were words she didn't recognise.

What was this confusion that she felt, this unrelenting confusion that dug a hollow in the pit of her stomach, and everyday filled it with thoughts that she tried to deny.

Why was it so hard to just say what she wanted to say?

Suddenly Santana let out a howl of anguish, and fell to the ground. Everyone suddenly stopped what they were doing.

"My ankle!" she said gripping it with her hands, but she looked to Quinn at the same time, and suddenly there was an understanding put in place. An understanding that Santana knew where Quinn should be today; so Santana was creating a diversion.

"Becky, I'm issuing a red alert, I want you to perform a citizen arrest, for the whiny cheerleader who can't hack pain,"

Becky walked forwards slightly, trying to decipher whether she was meant to be acting on what Sue was saying.

"Stop moaning Sanbags, you think that's hard! I've delivered a baby rhino! Now that's hard!"

Santana rolled her eyes slightly, but continued with her act, "My ankle, its broken!" she cried.

Granted nothing had actually happened for Santana to have hurt her ankle anyway, she had literally just dropped to the ground from where she had been standing. In normal circumstances, Quinn would be laughing. Everyone had stopped stretching for the pyramid and was now circled around her.

Quinn felt so bad for Brittany, clearly she had no idea that Santana was putting this on, her face was full of worry.

"Call off practice!" Santana was now yelling.

"Listen taco bell, you get back on your feet!"

Santana turned the waterworks on and instantly Sue stopped yelling through the megaphone.

"Baby," Brittany was saying beside her, "Baby where does it hurt, tell me, I'll fix it,"

Quinn was melting, and at the same time she was silently thanking Santana.

"Get in the showers you lady warts," Sue said annoyed, and she bent down and picked Santana clean up off the ground. "Tweedle dumb," she snapped, "Run along and tell the nurse I'm bringing your Juliet in,"

Brittany took off at a pace across the football field and Quinn looked at Santana.

_Thankyou_ she mouthed.

**. . .**

Fifteen minutes later and Quinn was sitting in a circle.

When people mention the word counselling, everyone has the tendency to tense, as though the word itself somehow confirms you as someone with a problem. What everyone fails to realise, is that you're actually someone aiming to _fix a problem_. A while ago, when Quinn saw Ms Pillsbury at least twice a week, she had told Quinn to consider herself as the hub of a life wheel.

"_Quinn,"_ she had reasoned, _"If you centre yourself around all of the spokes on your life wheel, then you might be able to find balance,"_

Quinn had never understood what she had meant, until now.

She was staring at the students sitting in the circle next to her. She understood that when anyone had rough emotional edges, then their life wheel might not function in the smoothest way, and because of that, the people around them would also feel the effects of the unbalanced wheel. Mostly all of them were from her grade, but there were a scatter of seniors, and some freshman's, which made her realise that cruelty exists at any age.

Rachel was staring at her, staring at Quinn with these great big eyes that were either of confusion or of anger Quinn couldn't really tell, because she refused to look into them.

"Everyone," Ms Pillsbury said, "I wanted to move away from confessions this lesson. I know most of you still have experiences you want to share, but I think it's really important if we do an exercise,"

Quinn tilted her head, the other day someone had told her that these lessons were just about everyone talking. About sharing the things that had hurt them, or people coming here to apologise to someone they may have tortured in earlier years.

Christ Quinn wanted to apologise to Rachel.

Ms Pillsbury was handing out pieces of paper, "I want you to all draw a circle on this piece of paper," she instructed, "and in the circle I want you to divide the sections into the things that maybe you're most thankful for, or maybe the elements in your life that are important to you, or even the things that weigh the heaviest on your heart,"

Everyone took their pieces of paper and began drawing and scribbling.

Quinn drew her circle.

She went to divide her circle into halves, or quarters or just something that resembled sections so she could write something, just anything. But her pen stopped working. She scribbled it in the corner of the page, rubbed it against her thigh and tried again.

Nothing.

The ink was dry.

After she huffed for a minute, she felt the sliding of a chair and suddenly a pen was handed under her nose. Even if Quinn was looking down, those small brown loafers she could see told her it was Rachel handing her a pen. Quinn looked up at her.

There was this certain sadness in her eyes, a sadness that had not left since the end of sophomore year. Quinn took the pen from her and watched as she returned to her seat.

Quietly Quinn flipped her page and drew one complete circle. There was no need for subsections, no need to break down her circle into parts, because there was just _one_ thing that ruled her life right now, one thing that overtook any of the other elements in her heart.

At the top of the page, she wrote; '_The thing that weighs the heaviest in my heart'_

She looked at the great big circle on her page and then inside she wrote, '_How much I need to apologise to Rachel Berry'_

Quinn stood, and ignored Ms Pillsbury's confused face, she moved over to Rachel and she placed the piece of paper in front of her. Rachel stared at it for a moment, and then she looked up. There were tears that had welled in her eyes, tears that Quinn just so badly wanted to reach down and wipe away.

But she couldn't.

This simple gesture had taken everything.

Rachel nodded though, a small nod that translated into a powerful understanding, and then that was it.

The moment was gone, and Quinn walked from the room.

* * *

><p><em>The Next Day<em>

You know maybe there's a story behind every person, a whole novel dedicated to why they are the way they are. You can try and rewrite the whole thing if you wanted to, go back to the prologue and try and figure out why they'd used the words that they had. You could try to change the words, or maybe you could find a way to make your sentences fit with theirs.

Quinn trailed down the hallway, she was so glad she had convinced Ms Carlton that she had an urgent Glee Club rehearsal to attend so she could skip the last twenty minutes of History class. Granted she actually did have Glee in twenty minutes. But there was something about being in these halls alone; it almost didn't feel like school. She could pretend she was somewhere else, maybe in a castle, on the top of a hill, in a faraway land. And then she heard it, the one thing that could destroy her quiet serenity for the next twenty minutes.

The sound of crying, the sound of angry crying.

Frowning Quinn trailed around the corner, and realised it was coming from the music rooms. She leaned to the side and looked through the small glass panel on the door. Rachel was standing near the piano, ripping pages out of a notebook, scrunching them into tight balls and throwing them in the waste paper basket.

Immediately Quinn pushed open the door, "Rachel?" she asked, "Rachel what are you doing?"

There was a certain panic, thinking this was Mr Schuester's beloved notebook that kept all his sheet music, and Rachel was enforcing an attack on a melody. Without this sheet music, Glee Club would quite possibly go under.

"Destroying every last bit of these stupid letters,"

With a rush of horror, Quinn realised that it was not the sheet music book Rachel was attacking, but rather her maths textbook. And it wasn't the textbook coming under fire, it was the letters. _Quinn's letters._

"Rachel stop!" Quinn yelled, as she continued ripping the papers into pieces.

"Why?" she yelled, the tears were streaming down her face now, streaming down her face, like rain in a storm, "It doesn't matter anymore, I was so stupid to think I could be in love with someone I couldn't touch. They never want to see me again," Rachel was shaking because she was crying so much, "I'd finally found someone who didn't see right through me,"

In exhaustion, Rachel sunk to her knees beside the piano; Quinn had never seen her cry like this before. God, it killed her.

"Rachel maybe it's for the best,"

"What would you know?" she snapped angrily, "You're so well put together Quinn, everyone always wants to be around you. No one dismisses you as just nothing,"

Quinn pleaded her eyes to stay dry, _please don't cry_, she begged herself, _don't let the wall down_.

"Those letters meant everything. I don't care if I don't know who they are, I don't care what they look like, they know me, someone in this world finally knows me!"

Quinn's heart was like a chaotic boom box in her chest, like the drummer boy had been promised extra cash if he beat harder.

Rachel curled her knees into her chest, burying her face into her lap, "And now I have to be alone again, I don't want to be alone anymore,"

Quinn's lips were quivering; her hands were trembling at such a rate, she thought she was going to pass out.

"You're not going to be alone Rachel," she whispered.

Rachel snapped he eyes on her, locked them intently, "Stop acting as though you know what I'm feeling Quinn, stop acting as though you actually care, how the hell would you know what any of this feels like?"

"Because it's me!" Quinn cried.

_Oh god, she'd said it out loud_. She'd actually said it out loud.

Rachel narrowed her eyes at her, "What?"

Quinn was crying now, large drops of salty tears splashed down the sides of her cheeks, "It's me, I'm the one in your letters and you're the one in mine. I'm _your person_ Rachel,"

Rachel was on her feet before Quinn had even had the chance to blink.

"How can you do that?" she cried angrily, "You think it's funny? You think you can use me as entertainment right now? Why the hell am I even talking to you Quinn? You've never been nice to me,"

"Rachel," she pleaded, "Rachel I'm the one writing these letters. Or _was_ the one writing these letters. I left them in your textbook in the library; I left them on the windshield of your car. It's me,"

"I know you've always manipulated people Quinn, but I never thought you would use someone's pain to amuse yourself, I'm over this, I can't even look at you,"

Rachel turned on her heel, and in a split second Quinn decided that she would never let her turn her back on her again.

"No," Quinn demanded, reaching out and grabbing her wrist. She pulled Rachel back towards her, pushing her into the piano. Rachel muffled a slight cry, before struggling against Quinn's strength. All these thoughts were rushing at Quinn, all these secrets only she knew about Rachel, she knew everything about _her person_. They had told each other everything in secret codes and rhythmic lyrics across pages.

"When you were ten years old you fell down the escalator and your Dad put a wiggles band aid on her knee,"

"All dads did that; the wiggles were highly popular,"

"You tell everyone that you'll be a star when really you just want to see everyone else do as well as you,"

"Lucky guess," she quivered.

"You never actually study for the biology exams, you just watch the discovery channel so much, that things have been ingrained into your brain,"

"You've stalked my twitter updates," she whispered.

"You're favourite musical is not My Fair Lady, it's _'A Little Night Music'_, because you want a love like Frederik and Desiree,"

Rachel stilled. She stared at Quinn, but Quinn wasn't finished. She tugged Rachel into her arms, god she couldn't even comprehend the thoughts in her head, it was almost like her heart was now controlling her movements, not her brain. Like the oxygen had left and been replaced with beats that were running well and truly beyond capacity.

"_But I thought perhaps - just perhaps, you might be in need of rescue, too?"_ Quinn said softly, quoting the words from the musical that Rachel had always so frequently mentioned in the letters.

Rachel had gone into shock; she wasn't able to formulate words, let alone sentences.

Quinn had stripped her of all her words.

"It was you this whole time?" Rachel managed after a few moments.

Quinn pressed her forehead to Rachel's, noses touching, eyes locked, she could taste Rachel's breath, it smelt like strawberries. Christ she wanted to kiss a girl. Christ she wanted to kiss Rachel Berry.

"I didn't know it was you at first, until you and your damn stars,"

A light flickered in Rachel's eye, "Fives," she whispered, and it made Quinn pull her closer.

"Quinn is this even real?" Rachel asked. It was almost as though they were frozen in time, like the air around them didn't exist and they were just standing in space staring at each other.

"I don't know" Quinn murmured, she was too busy studying her, being this close, she could pinpoint every last detail of the artwork standing in front of her.

Rachel's eyes were like chocolate, but at the same time Quinn could see the glint in them, it was like her eyes were a glass planet, reflecting the light of the moon.

"You smell good," Rachel murmured shyly.

"You look good,"' Quinn responded, without being able to stop herself.

She didn't know what to do. Rachel was wrapped up in her arms right now, waist pressed against the piano, holding them there for support, because just the feel of each other was enough to make their knees give out.

Suddenly the door was forced opened and Quinn pulled away instantly. Mercedes had just walked into the room, "You two are early," she said slinging her backpack to the wall just underneath the window sill.

"Rachel?" she asked, "Have you been crying?"

Rachel seemed lost for words for a moment before she recovered, "Yes actually, I was just rehearsing, and asking for Quinn's feedback. I just wanted to know if I was brilliant or simply outstanding. The performance as usual was a standout; the tears are just evidence,"

Mercedes rolled her eyes, walking past them to sit on one of the chairs.

The bell signalled and suddenly the hallways were filled with chatter, and Rachel stared at Quinn.

God that look, what the hell was Quinn going to do with that look.


	17. Chapter 16

Aw Little Readers, I'm sorry about my cliff-hangers ( I bet you wanna throw me off a cliff hey haha) most of you are from the US though (I think) which MEANS… when you're up for the day, I'm tucked away in bed... damn you TIMEZONES!

Otherwise I would be updating every hour for you!

Maybe I should train myself to be an insomniac? ;)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16 <strong>

High School, Junior Year

_Worn out faces, amongst crowded spaces, and all I see is yours_

* * *

><p>When Quinn was younger, she would always dread waking up in the middle of the night and needing the bathroom. Mainly because the hallway was so long and it was pitch black, she had somehow scared herself into thinking she was crossing a trolls dungeon to reach the toilet. Instead she used to flood the hallway with light. Just one switch and the whole top floor of the house illuminated. Most of the time it would wake everyone, but it was just one of those childish things, that when she turned on the lights, suddenly she believed she was safe from anything. Now more than ever, she just wanted to be that little girl again, that little girl whose greatest fear was walking from one side of the hallway to the next.<p>

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Quinn rounded angrily, "This is not something you can keep from me!"

"Sweetheart," her mother pleaded, "Your father and I were just waiting for the right time. You've only just settled back into school, and you're doing so well with everything, we didn't want to cause any stress,"

"Stress!" Quinn shot back, "I'm stressed that my sister still refuses to talk to me!"

Her mother looked exhausted, as though she wasn't cut out for teenage arguments anymore.

"She's getting married, and she's pregnant," Quinn said, more so reconfirming the news to herself more than anyone, "and you and Dad didn't tell me!"

Quinn had come home that afternoon, and searched the entire house for her mobile phone bill. She knew it was due, no actually she knew she was _overdue_, but for the life of her she couldn't remember where she had left the bill. She had basically turned the house upside down, and then she had found today's mail, sitting on the kitchen bench. She had flicked through searching for anything that said her name. Instead she had found a wedding invitation. In normal circumstances she would pass the invitation off and keep searching for her own mail. That was until she read the name on the envelope.

'_Frannie and Spyros'._

Quinn didn't even hesitate, she had ripped open the letter addressed only to her parents and saw that her sister was getting married in the summer. If that wasn't enough of a backhand slap, Frannie had also placed a small _p.s_ on the end saying _'baby says hi'_.

Quinn had immediately rung her mother, screaming.

Now three hours later, she was just about ready to hurl her dinner plate at both of them.

"Quinn," her father said, knotting his hands together on top of the table, he was still dressed in his suit and tie from work today, as though this was a business meeting and he was trying to get Quinn to come to the party.

"Your mother and I did not do this to hurt you. We were going to tell you Quinn,"

"When?" she snapped, "When '_baby_' was starting high school?"

Her mother sighed exasperated, "Quinn, she has only just found out she's pregnant, this is early stages,"

"Oh well maybe Frannie will have a miscarriage too then Mum!"

_Fuck that was completely not the thing she wanted to say._

Judy had stilled completely.

"That came out wrong," Quinn said softly.

"Quinn, this was never intended to hurt you," her father said.

Quinn knew this; she knew that this was mostly her sister's anguish shining through, purposely excluding her from the invitation.

How could she do that?

Even so she was still annoyed that her parents hadn't told her. She was supposed to be growing up wasn't she? They were always telling her about how much she needed to take responsibility for her actions and be accountable for her life. Well wasn't this one of those things? When they needed to treat her like an adult and tell her, instead of keeping it a secret for gods knows how long.

Maybe she should move out.

But that would require a job.

And then they'd want their car back.

God.

"I'm going to bed," she announced. Quinn made a point not to glance at the clock, because she knew it was only around eight o'clock, but she felt so angry she just couldn't be in the same room as them.

Sometimes parents don't always find the things their looking for in their children, so instead they spend their time planting the seeds of the things they would like to grow there instead. You walk down the street and see the father who is taking his son to a hockey game before he can walk; the mother who resigned from ballet dreams when she married only to now tie her daughters hair into a bun and stand by the stage as she dances like a swan; or the parents who take their child to piano lessons in the belief they'll be the next _Beethoven_. Parents don't do this to orchestrate their children's lives, they don't do this to control or live their lives through second chances. What they're really hoping, hoping beyond anything, is that this one thread will take flight; this one thing will ground itself, and might take up enough space and time to keep their child from developing the disappointment they've already lived.

Quinn stormed up the stairs and disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a bang. Maybe that was what Quinn loved most about her room. About why her bedroom had always been the one place that she could seek comfort in. She was always _herself_ in her room. It was her place, no one else's; she didn't have to conform to anything here. She could live and be herself. Quinn had grown up in a nice house, the Christmas tree orchard just beyond her fence always made the house smell of pine. It was like the smell of fresh autumn all year round. Quinn moved to her window and leant against the window sill, staring out into her backyard and trying to ignore her reflection in the tinting. The sky was stretched dark for miles, with the stars glinting like fairy dust guiding believers home.

A string of lights caught her eye at first. They made her window glow with elfin colours, which warmed the foggy surface, spreading a soft light across the acre beyond her fence. Quinn pressed her face to the glass, squinting slightly. Her weight pushed down through her straight arms on the window sill, as she balanced on the tip of her toes, trying to see where the light was coming from. She smiled briefly; Mr McDonald had chosen tonight to perform his _'light'_ check. Testing to see if his Christmas lights were still working and ready to bundle up into packaging and sell. He was such a curious man; he did this every year at least four months in advance. Quinn had always hoped to catch him right at the beginning. Right when you could just make out the darkened figure, climbing the ladder to the tallest tree and placing the star on top.

When Quinn had first learnt of the pregnancy, she had been searching for guidance, for someone, or something to show her how she was supposed to cope with things. She had been searching for the freedom of the countryside, the far off blank horizon, the baked yellow grass yearning for a breeze, a way out, anything to stop her from drowning in anxiety.

She had needed her sister.

Quinn had been lost, unable to piece together what her life had become. When her sister had turned from her, told her that this was her mistake to live with, and that she had wanted nothing to do with it, it had broken her. Only now Quinn had found a certain rationality in herself, a part that gets her through her life, the feelings that really makes her who she is. If Quinn was honest with herself, she would feel it trickling through her thoughts, just like her blood, bleeding out of her, the raw truth of how much she still wanted her sister.

Of how much she still wanted Frannie in her life.

Mr Mcdonald suddenly switched the old generator and the star on top of the tallest tree lit up the entire acre. It caught Quinn by surprise as she stared at the golden light shining through the gaps in her fence. She opened her window, and let the cool air rush at her face, leaning slightly over the sill she soaked in the night air. The star still worked, its bulbs were still intact, and now all she could think about was Rachel.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, and she found herself scrolling past Kurt and onto Rachel.

Berry:

'_What do you do when you find out something that your parents had kept from you on purpose?'_

Within moments she had received a reply.

'**Breathe Quinn, just stop and breathe,'**

Quinn stared at her phone and found herself doing exactly what Rachel had just instructed her to do. God Rachel wasn't even in the room and she had taken control, what was happening? Quinn moved to her bed and stretched out amongst the pillows, still staring at her phone.

Another message sounded,

'**are you breathing Quinn?**'

Quinn smirked,

'_yes Rachel that's how humans stay alive_'

'**Well yes Quinn, we all normally do breathe, but I am using the term in the sense you need to calm yourself**'

'_Rachel I know what you are referring to I am being smart'_

'**but your messages don't sound very smart**'

'_lord I am going to kick you'_

'**well actually we live six blocks away Quinn, which would require you to either drive or run, and either way both of which would take more than twenty minutes, and by then I would have locked all my doors**'

Quinn laughed,

'_I can pick locks…_'

'**I have a great dane**'

'_No you don't!_'

'**Yes I do, it's my computer wallpaper, but it's still in my room**'

'_you're are lunatic_'

'**But I bet you're smiling**'

'_I am…_'

Quinn had to wait for another five minutes before she received the next message,

'**Sometimes I pretend you're sleeping next to me. I pretend what it would feel like. I would count your breaths as your body rose and fell. Then I would count the amount of times your eyelids opened and closed before you shut your eyes. I would trace your face, learn the creases in your smile, the shape of your eyebrows…**'

Quinn was not breathing; she had completely forgotten to breathe.

Another message,

'**Your smile makes me melt, I keep thinking to that day in the music rooms, when you had me in your arms. Some days I'm scared that you make me feel this way, other days I just want to count the lines around your lips, the circles around your eyes. Everything about you intrigues me**'

Quinn typed her words,

'_are you scared because I'm a girl?_'

'**Quinn I have two gay Dads….**'

Quinn rolled her eyes,

'well _it scares me!_'

'**Why?**'

'_I don't know, what people will say, what people will think,_'

'**Santana and Brittany made it didn't they?**'

Quinn bit her lip slightly, why did Rachel always have to come back with the most reasonable answers?

'_I'm still scared okay_,'

'**I told you I'd search for eternity, that hasn't changed, we can wait...**'

Quinn melted.

* * *

><p>Junior year was moving forward at a rate that Quinn really wasn't prepared for. Christmas was drawing nearer and sooner rather than later she was going to have to sit in front of her computer and select a handful of college's she may be slightly interested in.<p>

"_Julliard," _Santana had said the other day as they stretched before Cheerio's practice, _"I want Julliard more than anything,"_

"_But that means moving to New York,"_ Quinn had responded and Santana had smirked,

"_Exactly"_ she had replied.

"_But Britt…"_

"_They have an excellent dance program,"_ Brittany had chimed in, and instantly Quinn had known their plans.

How can you measure how much plans will change though?

Do certain things have expiry dates like products? Maybe it's because time will not sleep. It doesn't slow down and it doesn't stop. When time feels like it is running out, you have all the time in the world. You could stare at your watch hoping that the minute hand will come to a stop just so you have some extra time, but it's not going to. You could count seconds until it becomes a new day or a new month, or a new year but you'll be counting forever. Time goes on, and there's nothing you can do to stop it, you just have to learn to live with it.

"Sometimes I wish I was pretty like you Quinn," Rachel said softly, as they stood outside the music rooms waiting for Glee to start.

Quinn looked at her, _you are pretty, your eyes Rachel sometimes I want to…._

"Quinn, be careful you're catch hobbit-itis"

Quinn turned to see Santana approaching, cutting the moment short.

Rachel bit her lip, "Well that might be slightly more appealing than Satan-itis"

Quinn couldn't help herself, she started laughing.

Santana snapped her eyes to her, "Q, that wasn't funny,"

"Neither was hobbit-itis" Quinn replied grinning.

Santana smirked slightly, turning her attention to Rachel, "Well, at least we know if Glee Club ever needs a comedic duet, we'll win, won't we Berry,"

To Quinn's surprise, Rachel had actually understood Santana's backward compliment,

"I think we'd do great Santana,"

It was a small moment, fleeting, but it was a moment, and Quinn had to pry her eyes off Rachel before she made anything too damn obvious.

In a rush, Brittany came bounding over, half crashing into Santana, nearly causing her to lose her balance "Baby are you ready for us to sing? I think we'll win the Breadstix competition,"

Santana stopped looking so intently at Quinn, much to her relief, because if anything she swore to god Santana could feel something.

"Of course I'm ready, a free meal at Breadstix is exactly what the doctor ordered, Ms Sylvester made me tie my pony with chicken wire the other day…"

"Oh please," came Kurt's voice, "Mercedes and I have this in the bag, don't you worry,"

Quinn breathed in deeply as she followed the rest of her class mates into the music rooms. Mr Schuester had organised a bit of healthy competition within the club for the rest of the week. _"Duets!"_ he had clapped enthusiastically, _"Best pair wins!"_

Mostly everyone had paired up and had prepared a song to sing. Mr Schuester had told them that they could sing their song at any given stage this week. Right now, Quinn didn't know who to sing with. Her heart told her Rachel, but was she ready for that?

To be put into the spotlight like that?

"Okay guys, this is friendly competition!" Mr Schuester smirked, "Even though you'll be performing in small teams, we are one BIG team,"

The way he stretched his arms in imitation of the word _big_ made Quinn laugh lightly, her teacher was such a dork.

"Santana, Brittany, do you want to go first?"

Brittany had already left her chair and was sliding it to the front of the room, "Mr Schuester," she said, "I just wanted everyone to know that I chose this song because it's how Santana makes me feel,"

Puck groaned, "Get a room!"

"We do, we have multiple rooms selected throughout the school," Santana shot back.

"Santana," Mr Schuester warned and she closed her mouth.

"Puck you're just jealous," Tina piped.

He leant back into his chair folding his arms before shrugging, "Show us what you got then," he challenged.

Santana nodded at Brad and instantly a familiar melody trailed into the room, Quinn smiled, damn she loved this song.

_"Will you count me in?"_ Santana sung.

_I've been awake for a while now  
><em>

_you've got me feelin like a child now  
><em>

_cause every time I see your bubbly face  
><em>

_I get the tinglies in a silly place_

Brittany leant forward on their chair, swinging her legs underneath and smiling before she sung her bar.

_It starts in my toes  
><em>

_and I crinkle my nose  
><em>

_where ever it goes I always know  
><em>

_that you make me smile  
><em>

_please stay for a while now  
><em>

_just take your time  
><em>

_where ever you go  
><em>

Santana held out her pinkie and Brittany took it immediately,

_The rain is fallin on my window pane  
><em>

_but we are hidin in a safer place  
><em>

_under covers stayin dry, safe and warm  
><em>

_you give me feelins that I adore  
><em>

Brittany was looking at Santana as she sung the lyrics; that look made Quinn's hands curl on top of her thighs.

_What am I gonna say  
><em>

_when you make me feel this way  
><em>

_I just...mmmmmm  
><em>

The rest of the class were swaying, even Puck was tapping his hand against the back of Finn's chair like a drum.

_It starts in my soul  
><em>

_And I lose all control  
><em>

_When you kiss my nose  
><em>

_The feelin shows  
><em>

_Cause you make me smile  
><em>

_Baby just take your time now  
><em>

_Holdin me tight_

_Where ever, where ever, where ever you go_

_Where ever, where ever, where ever you go_

_Where ever you go, I'll always know_

_Cause you make me smile here, just for a while_

When Santana and Brittany finished, Santana wrapped her up in her arms, kissing Brittany's shoulder softly, "And that's why!" she yelled, "We's be goin to Breadstix!"

Quinn had stared at Rachel the entire song.

* * *

><p>The bleachers had become their hideaway space. Meeting in between classes, before school and afterschool. Sometimes they would talk, other times they would sit in silence, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter because Quinn could just sit next to Rachel for hours and no say a word, they just knew what the other was thinking.<p>

"Do you know what skinny love is,"

Quinn turned to her, "I don't think so," she replied, did she mean love between skinny people, wait that didn't make sense.

"It's when two people are afraid to admit they're in love with each other, but they still show it,"

Quinn felt her heart drop again. It's so hard to explain though isn't it? So hard to explain that feeling when you're speaking to _your person_. They could be someone that in theory just doesn't fit the lines on the paper; they're someone your family would never accept, someone society still struggles with, or someone you never thought you could love. But you know it. You know because you _feel_ it.

Quinn closed her eyes; she closed her eyes so she couldn't see Rachel. Right now she was just a blank black canvas. The same blank canvas in all those letter's.

"Say something," Quinn whispered.

"Like what?"

"Like anything," she replied, she just wanted to hear her words, just hear her words and they would calm her.

"Quinn," she whispered, and Quinn could feel her breath, she was so close to her. "_If I just lay here, would you lie with me, and just forget the world?_"

Of course Rachel would do that. She would speak through lyrics, speak through a song Quinn liked, speak through words, because Rachel was Quinn's person, and Rachel said everything she needed to just in sentences.

Quinn opened her eyes and looked at her, and then she smirked, as lyrics popped into her head as a response, Quinn opened her mouth and sung some bars softly.

_I __don't mind spending everyday__  
><em>

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain__  
><em>

_Look for the girl with the broken smile__  
><em>

_Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

"I love that song," Rachel smiled.

_God that look, that face, those eyes, those lips. _

"I love you," Quinn managed.

Rachel stilled slightly, before leaning towards her, Quinn was trembling, she didn't know whether she was ready or not, because this would change everything wouldn't it.

It starts with a touch, just one touch and the world stops spinning.

"Maybe we can try being friends first?"

Relief washes over us in many ways, like when the trains aren't delayed and you make it to work on time. Or when the teacher announces that the pop quiz is next week and not today. But relief also comes in small doses of knowing that the person you love will still be waiting, even if you're not ready to act on the things you feel inside.

"How do we be friends Rachel?"

Rachel bit her lip slightly, "We'll figure it out,"

. . .

By the time 5pm had rolled around, the sun was closing in for the afternoon and Quinn had been staring at her box of summer letters to Rachel for just about the entire time she was supposed to be writing her history essay. They were staring at her like they were the only things in her room. Quinn was lying to herself really; these false thoughts in her mind weren't really matching up to reality. She thought too much of the insignificant gestures that she seemed to blow up like balloons and let them hover around in some euphoric bubble of what could or should be, and then whenever it did not go to plan, she would be left with maybe, almost situations. Every time she would catch Rachel's eye from across the room, she thought of the entire summer in which she knew and Rachel didn't. She had written these letters, written everything down, to explain all the things she was feeling.

These were still Rachel's letters weren't they?

She needed to read them.

Before Quinn could even process what her brain was instructing her to do, she had grabbed a jumper, knelt down and picked up the box and piled into her car, to drive straight to Rachel Berry's.

It was only Quinn's intention to leave the box on Rachel's doorstep. Then again what if they thought that someone had planted a bomb on their front porch and called the US navy; that's something over dramatic Rachel would do wasn't it.

Christ why was she even contemplating what they would think the box was?

Quinn felt the air catch in her throat as she placed it on their welcome mat, it was this bright blue colour, that reminded her of the ocean. The security light suddenly switched on and Quinn felt like a deer being thrown into headlights. There was a shadow and then the clicking of the door and suddenly it what reefed open.

"Who goes there?"

"Oh for pete's sake Hiram, this is not medieval times!"

And suddenly Rachel's fathers had opened the front door and were staring at her in mild perplexion.

"Can we help you?" Hiram corrected himself.

"You look like Quinn Fabray," Leroy mused scratching his chin.

What Quinn should have said, just to be witty was, "Yes that is I," just a small play on Hirams first method of opening their front door.

Only her wit was lost between _awkward_ and _mind blank_ so instead she said, "Oh do I?"

_Fucking idiot._

"Dad? Daddy?" came Rachels voice, "Just because I win bingo every other night, does not mean you can cause diversions,"

She stopped short when she saw Quinn standing on her doorstep.

"Fives?"

Quinn melted.

"What?" Hiram and Leroy said together.

"I mean Quinn!" Rachel corrected herself.

"Oh it is Quinn Fabray!" Leroy grinned, "The last time we saw you, you were dressed in a flying saucer on the elementary school stage, dancing to space music!"

Quinn flushed red, that was single handedly the msot embarassing moment of her life.

"Quinn what are you doing here?" Rachel asked frowning.

Quinn still hadn't gotten over the shock of being caught leaving the box here, she had just wanted to drop and run, she should have thrown it from her moving vechile.

"I was dropping off the essays due for Glee Club," she said staring at her.

Thank god almighty Rachel was intelligent, honestly really, because any other person would have just glared at her and kindly informed her that Glee Club was a music class, which participated mostly in practical lessons and rarely ever wrote essays.

"Well that was nice of you," Hiram quipped, "How about you come in and have some of my spagetti, its so world class, you could probably write an essay on _it_!"

Leroy grinned at his husbands remark.

"Oh I don't want to…"

"Honestly Miss Fabray you would be insulting him if you didn't" Leroy replied and he stepped aside to allow Quinn inside. She sheepishly followed them into the dining room. Rachel had not taken her eyes of the box.

An hour later and Quinn had discovered that, men's shirts have the buttons on the right, but women's shirts have the buttons on the left; when you blush, the lining of your stomach also turns red; and her favourite had been that; no word in the English language rhymes with month, because it had made Rachel sit for another ten minutes arguing with her father's about the possible words that _could_ rhyme with month.

"Rachel that is not even a word," Leroy sighed shaking his head.

"Well it could be," she protested.

"Oh you're inventing it are you?" he asked his eyebrows raised.

"I could invent my own language if I wanted to," she responded defensively.

"Yes," Hiram mused, "It would be called _diver-ism,_"

Quinn laughed lightly as Rachel scowled, before allowing Leroy to pour more water into her glass. This is what family felt like, for the first time in months, she was having a real conversation with a real family.

Hiram smiled broadly, "You should have seen the tantrums that came from her mouth!" he quipped.

Quinn grinned, "Oh really,"

"Daddy!" Rachel groaned, "Please can you not,"

"Oh but it's true," Leroy agreed, "I remember once we had to cancel our bingo night because Rachel insisted we take her to see the spring musical of Oliver!"

"Well yes, because it was only showing in Ohio for one night only!"

"Oh the fit she threw when we said we would take her another time," Leroy continued.

"_If you don't take me, I will duct tape myself to the telegraph pole outside and call child services, blaming you for withholding the arts_," he mimicked.

Rachel groaned even more, "Dad!"

Quinn was laughing so hard she was almost choking on the spaghetti, this amazing tasting spaghetti that Hiram had cooked.

The smell of the Berry's house was intoxicating. It smelt like herbs and spices and warm recipes shared between people who loved each other. Most of all Quinn liked the living room they were currently sitting in, it was full of odd little trinkets that made the room so quirky.

"I bet you're really proud of her," Quinn said glancing at Rachel briefly.

"Of course we are!" Hiram grinned, "That's not a secret,"

"Well," Leroy mused, handing him the pepper, "There are no secrets in this family,"

Quinn felt Rachel's eyes lock with hers.

. . .

Just read them, Quinn said, as she placed the box on Rachel's desk.

"Why?"

"Because you'll learn more about me," Quinn responded.

Rachel's room was decorated in posted notes and trophies, but it was warm, it made Quinn feel safe.

Rachel nodded slightly, before crossing to her bed and lying back against the pillows, "Will you lie with me for a little bit? Just before you go home?"

Quinn stared at her, lie on a bed next to Rachel? Well that was dangerous. But even so she found herself crawling down next to her. Quinn spent a couple moments examining her, examining the creases along her neck, the veins twisting themselves down her arms, the odd freckle dotted in mismatched places.

"You're so small," Quinn suddenly said.

Rachel seemed to curl her pillow into her as though she was using it as a barrier, but the heat from Quinn was almost too much to bear, she could feel her skin burning, even if they weren't actually touching.

"I am well aware of that," she whispered, "You and Santana have made nearly an entire dictionary dedication to the definition,"

Quinn slightly smirked, but then returned it, as Rachel didn't seem to think it was funny.

"Have you even seen the movie _Thumbelina_?" she asked.

Rachel shook her head.

Quinn inhaled slightly, "It's a movie, about a tiny little princess, who gets kidnapped and has to find her way back home,"

"Quinn I don't think I'm going to get kidnapped…"

Quinn pushed the pillow up into her mouth to silence her.

"_Thumbelina_ has to go through so many huge obstacles, but eventually she gets through it, she gets through it no matter how small she feels, that's kinda how I look at you sometimes,"

Rachel stilled.

"You really have to stop doing that Quinn," she whispered.

"Doing what?"

"Saying things that make me want to kiss you,"

Quinn's eyes locked with hers for a moment, they did not falter, they didn't even blink, they chose to stare at Rachel, stare with this unkempt intensity that neither of them knew what do with until Quinn responded with,

"You too,"


	18. Chapter 17

Little Readers!

In light of it being September 11, I just wanted to say to my US readers, that even though time heals, it takes a lot of love to mend the scars… So I'm sending all my love to you!

AND to all my little readers in general… always know that you're beautiful in your own way (you'll read and understand!)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 17<strong>

High School, Junior Year

_The world will always try to give you the answers, but the true answer lies inside of you already_

* * *

><p>Quinn's grandfather had always insisted that every second Sunday, she walk with him to the small pawn shop in town, to either trade or buy or sell. Ever since she had been little, he would always reason that even though most pawn shops were full of junk, they were also breeding grounds for stories. Why would someone sell their diamond engagement ring; why would anyone sell a rarely used bicycle; who was so desperate for money they that they sold their teddy bear with its left eye missing? Stories come in many different forms, some are short and you can read them within minutes, others a little longer and it takes you a while. But the stories that you can imagine yourself and see unfold in front of you; those are the stories worth remembering.<p>

"Quinnie!"

Quinn looked up from where she had been staring at a small china doll, sitting in between two large bookstands. It was smiling, big rosy cheeks and a wide grin, who would want to give away something smiling so big?

Her grandfather came walking towards her holding a large bird cage, "Kurtis would thoroughly enjoy this wouldn't he? For that bird of his?"

Quinn smirked, Kurt would definitely enjoy that.

"How much is Pop?"

"Does that matter?" he asked, "I want to get it for him,"

Quinn smiled at her grandfather, he always just wanted to do things for people; he was always so much more interested in showing kindness rather than the latter. Sometimes Quinn wondered where all the kindness had gone in the world; when patience had turned into knocking people out of the way just to get only a few more steps in front of them or when _'move'_ had become the new _'excuse me please'_.

This week, it had felt as though she had lived her life in slow motion. She'd barely said a word to her parents, she wasn't participating nearly as much in Glee Club, and she hadn't answered any of Rachel's texts. It would be easy enough to assume that because her world had come to a complete halt.

So had everyone else's.

But the garbage cans had been emptied, the mail box was full, and the newspaper had been left on the front porch as always. So while Quinn felt like her life had frozen around her, the rest of the world had continued living theirs.

But her sister was pregnant and getting married.

Her sister, had elected to tell everyone else except her. Was Frannie still that disappointed in her? If you had a sister, and she disappeared from your life, does that mean she's still your sister? Or does she become just another person floating somewhere in the world?

"Pop," Quinn said moving past a jukebox, so she could stand closer to him.

"Did you know about Frannie and Spyros?"

She saw her grandfather let out a long sigh, as though this sigh had been so overdue and he'd been waiting for her to ask him this question.

"I had a little inkling Quinnie," he said truthfully, "And then when you're mother found out, she told me,"

"Are you excited about your first grandchild?" she asked without even thinking.

Her grandfather, stopped running his hands over the bird cage and he snapped his eyes to her. His great big hazel eyes stared at her. Sometimes if Quinn let herself, she could literally see her reflection in her grandfather's eyes, like she was forever locked in his sight, like he would never once stop watching her.

"Now you listen hear Quinnie, and you listen very hard, this is not my first grandchild,"

Quinn stilled.

"My first grandchild was taken back up to the clouds because someone up there decided that the little bundle growing inside _you_, needed to look over the world instead,"

"But Pop, it was never…"

"It came from you Quinnie," he reasoned, "and you can tell me, and you can tell yourself that it was never yours, and maybe in theory that is quite true, and maybe you are still just a child yourself, but that was a piece of you and it was taken, and don't you let anyone try and tell you otherwise,"

Quinn was trying so hard not to let her lips quiver, but she had never heard her grandfather react in this way.

"Quinnie," he continued firmly, "I am not sure what the outcome will be with your sister, but I want you to always remember, that we are who we are for a lot of reasons. Sometimes we will never understand the reasoning's of others, the reasoning's of our family or of strangers, but that doesn't mean we don't have the power to _try_ and understand them,"

"I love you pop," she murmured, and he nodded.

"Quinnie, I've loved you before you were even conceived,"

"Snips!" came Kurt's voice from behind a giant paddle boat, and Quinn jumped because she had completely forgotten that she'd dragged him along, "I think I found one of your old outfits,"

Quinn laughed as Kurt's hand shot out from behind the boat holding a blue trimmed fur coat.  
>"My word boy, you've got cheek," her grandfather responded, raising his eyebrows to Quinn.<p>

Quinn watched Kurt push his way through the piles of vintage bits and pieces to reach them again, but she felt her phone vibrate before she could convince him to consider purchasing the roller skates hanging from the railing above them.

She looked at the screen and saw it was Rachel. She'd been so disconnected from her; she really couldn't keep ignoring her. Quinn slid the answer button across her screen and put the phone to her ear.

Before Quinn had even said anything, Rachel's voice had sounded,

"I want to get a nose job,"

Quinn frowned into the receiver, checking on the range of Kurt's ear shot but he was now currently hovering over a rather large sunbathing chair, arguing with her grandfather about who was most likely to have owned it.

"A giant," Kurt was saying.

"Kurtis, little men can have big chairs,"

The conversation was getting far too inappropriate for Quinn's ears, so she moved away slightly.

"Rachel," she said, "What are you talking about?"

They had barely spoken this week, and suddenly she was talking about nose jobs?

"A nose job."

Quinn pressed a spring box down so it flew back up off the small desk top she was standing in front of. Boxes were piled high around her, different pieces of furniture created a tower reaching to the ceiling, "Yes I understood what you said Rachel, but why?"

"Because I want to be pretty,"

Quinn felt her eyebrows crease again, "Rachel _you are_ pretty,"

She sounded exasperated, "That's easy for you to say Quinn; you're the prettiest girl in this school,"

Quinn froze as she stared at her reflection in a coloured glass paned window, sitting leant against the wall. Rachel's words rushed at her, and not because she was complimenting her, Quinn had always struggled with this, and now she was learning that she wasn't the only one.

"Rachel you don't know what goes on inside my head as I get ready for school,"

"Yes I do," she replied, "It's the same thing that goes on inside mine. Only you don't need to think that way,"

"Rachel, you do not need a nose job, you are pretty the way you are,"

"But I want to be pretty enough for you to want me Quinn,"

Quinn nearly toppled forwards, "Rachel…"

"It's fine, I'm just going to look at your Facebook pictures some more, because your nose…" she paused, "Your nose is a nose worth having,"

Quinn didn't have the chance to respond, because Rachel had clicked and hung up. Staring at herself in the small broken window, Quinn wondered if most people thought the same way about their insecurities. Everyone has that one thing they're insecure about don't they, or maybe its two or three things, but does anyone ever count the things they love about themselves?

Rachel had wanted to sing with Quinn for the duet competition, and Quinn had been continuously putting it off. Was this what had made Rachel so insecure? The fact Quinn didn't want to sing with her, because she thought she wasn't pretty enough to do so.

Quinn leant against the desk in front of her, why did she always push people away?

**. . .**

Mid way between her freshman year, Quinn had come to conclusion, that nothing would smell better than a Laundromat. It was almost like the same smell of fresh lawns when they had been mowed, or the feeling of a Sunday morning, knowing that you could sleep in because you didn't have school that day. The smell of fresh laundry would always remind Quinn of when she had been really little, playing on the floor of her grandparents living room in the winter; and her grandmother would bring in the hot towels, straight from the dryer.

She would throw them on top of Quinn.

"_Feel their warmth Quinnie,"_ she would say, _"Always make sure your heart is that warm,"_

Now thinking about her grandmother's words, Quinn wondered how she had let her heart get so cold.

The other thing Quinn liked about Laundromats was that they drew the lonely people out of crowds. The Laundromat in town was small and quaint; it had checked floor tiles that looked like her grandfather's chessboard. The right wall was lined with white washing machines and dryers; they reminded Quinn of someone's bottom teeth. Sitting on the small red stool beside the bay window, was like sitting on the _south side of anywhere_, it was a place that drew her out of her shell. There was a woman at the table folding small pink little jumpers; Quinn could see that she was fighting back tears. There was another guy, sitting in the corner reading a sci-fi book, his t-shirt read _no one home_. Quinn had always thought that if you put ten people in a Laundromat there was always the chance that you wouldn't be the one worse off. There was also someone with a greater problem than yours. Quinn scuffed her feet along the floor, as she felt the sun leak in through the window. She couldn't stop thinking about what Rachel had said, about not being pretty enough, about wanting to look like her.

How many people out there, look at you and think I want to look like you? How many people out there do you look at, and think I want to look like them?

Quinn found herself wondering how many people look in the mirror and think I'm glad I look like you.

Every now and then, she would call into the Laundromat, and just spend the afternoon here, spend the afternoon playing a game of guess and tell. She would try to imagine what it would be like, to be the person whose clothes were being tumbled dry. If she was that bright yellow cardigan, maybe she was a grandmother who wanted to remind the world of sunflowers; if she was those cement plastered overalls, maybe she was a builder helping to rebuild homes in Mississippi; if she had those floral sheets maybe she was the lead in a spring play; if she had those high red striped socks, maybe she played for a world class baseball team.

Quinn would stare at all these different items of clothing, and try to imagine herself doing them, but she could never see the picture.

Clothes are designed differently aren't they, much like humans. Some clothes fit, others don't, but it doesn't mean they're any less fashionable right? It's just a different taste, a different way of putting something together. Quinn continued to stare at the washing machines, as they turned like synchronized swimmer's until someone came and sat on the stool next to her.

The woman pulled a jacket from her bag, and sat it on her lap, as Quinn looked closer; she noticed a large purple stain right in the middle of the jacket, where the buttons met the holes. It looked like paint. Maybe this woman was an artist, whose craft had ruined her clothing.

"They have stain remover for sale at the front desk," Quinn offered.

The woman looked at her tilting her head, "For what?"

Quinn nodded to her jacket, "To remove the stain on your jacket,"

The woman smiled slightly, "Oh I bought it like this, from a second hand store, the owner had said the person hated the stain,"

Quinn stared at her.

"I like it though, it makes it unique you know, it makes it not like everyone else,"

Maybe that's all it takes. Just one other person in this world to like you for you, and that's all you really need.

Quinn pulled out her phone, she scrolled to Rachel and she wrote all but four words.

_I'll sing with you_

* * *

><p>Rachel raised her hand, "Mr Schuester," she said, "I would like to sing my duet,"<p>

"With who?" Puck asked, "You said your talent was too great to sing with me, when I asked you, even though we're both hot Jews,"

"No, I refused to sing with you Noah, because your blatant racial connotation did not sit well with me,"

Puck rolled his eyes.

"Rachel who are you singing with?" Mr Schuester said, breaking them up.

Quinn knew Puck had put Rachel off completely, particularly considering she was already so nervous about the whole thing anyway.

"Me," Quinn spoke up and instantly she felt everyone's eyes snap in her direction.

"Why?" Finn asked, narrowing his eyes, as though Quinn secretly had a hidden agenda for singing with Rachel. This was going to be the problem they faced wasn't it. God she didn't even know how to deal with this inside her own mind, let alone everyone else's.

"Because I wanted to," Quinn said flatly, and she ignored Mercedes opened mouth.

Rachel stood up lightly, making her way to the front of the room and pulling a chair for Quinn. When Quinn sat down next to her, she made a point not to brush shoulders with Rachel. One touch and she would probably melt, for the whole class to see.

Santana was staring at Quinn as though she was trying to see inside her. Brittany was smiling as though this was the most normal thing in the world; and Kurt was eyeing her, one of his _'what are you up to?'_ looks. Quinn closed her eyes briefly, she wanted to do this; she wanted to do this for Rachel. Rachel needed this, and Quinn wanted to give her what she needed.

Brad trailed his fingers along the keyboard and the music filtered into the room, as though it was a song Quinn had known her whole life, and not just rehearsed quickly in the bathrooms earlier this morning.

_I wish I could tie you up in my shoes_

_Make you feel unpretty too_

_I was told I was beautiful_

_But what does that mean to you_

_Look into the mirror who's inside there_

_The one with the long hair_

_Same old me again today_

You know the one thing people fail to realise, is that other people don't see you, the way you see yourself in the mirror. Some days you'll look in the mirror and you'll feel good, you'll stare at your reflection and think, it's okay, I like the way I look today. Other mornings, you will want to throw a blanket over yourself and never leave the house again. You think this, but other people probably don't. Don't be so cruel to the girl who wears too much makeup, all she's wanting is to look as pretty as the other girls around her. Don't be so cruel to the boy who wears his hat backwards, he just wants to feel as '_cool_' as all the other people in his class. People aren't born the same way; they're born with different genetic make-ups and quirks to look different from another person. But everyone has a few things in common; like one heart, one heart that we're supposed to match with another's.

You can't possible surrender your heart to another, if even you're not familiar with it.

So take a moment, ask yourself, what does _your _heart say?

_My outsides are cool_

_My insides are blue_

_Everytime I think I'm through_

_It's because of you_

_I've tried different ways_

_But it's all the same_

_At the end of the day_

_I have myself to blame_

_I'm just trippin''_

Most of people's lives are spent looking for something, and everywhere they turn someone else will tell you what it is. Quinn had always thought that to be popular, was to be pretty, to have your hair a certain way, wear your makeup without fault, wear the right clothes and have the right crowd around you. But maybe accepting the answers other people gave her, wasn't really knowing who she wanted to be. Maybe in a world that constantly tries to tell you who to be, it's nice to know that you don't have to be anyone but yourself.

_You can buy your hair if it won't grow_

_You can fix your nose if he says so_

_You can buy all the make-up that M.A.C. can make_

_But if you can't look inside you_

_Find out who am I to_

_Be in a position to make me feel so damn unpretty_

Quinn wanted to know, that in a world that relies on falsity and materials to change the things about ourselves we do not wish to keep, where were the moments that you looked inside yourself; looked at the soul that was given you? Youth doesn't last forever, your body won't always be as strong as it once was, and when that happens, isn't it better to know what you are on the inside?

Don't be so afraid of yourself, you are you, there's no one else in this world who can be you, and maybe true beauty lies in the people who aren't afraid to open themselves.

_I feel pretty_

_Oh so pretty_

_I feel pretty and witty and bright_

_Never insecure until I met you_

_Now I'm being stupid_

_I used to be so cute to me_

_Just a little bit skinny_

_Why do I look to all these things_

_To keep you happy_

_Maybe get rid of you_

_And then I'll get back to me _

Quinn looked at Rachel, looked at her and pleaded with her, that she was just as beautiful as anyone else, if not more.

No one else compares to you, not now, not ever.

_My outsides look cool__  
><em>

_My insides are blue__  
><em>

_Eve__rytime I think I'm through_

_It's because of you__  
><em>

_I've tried different ways__  
><em>

_But it's all the same__  
><em>

_At the end of the day__  
><em>

_I have myself to blame__  
><em>

_Keep on trippin'_

_I feel pretty_

_Oh so pretty__  
><em>

_I feel pretty and witty and bright__  
><em>

_And I pity__  
><em>

_Any girl who isn't me tonight_

When the music stopped, the entire class was just staring at them, Brittany had started clapping, but Santana had stopped her midway.

Quinn ignored them and looked at Rachel, "You're beautiful," she murmured.

**. . .**

Quinn finally found Rachel, as she lay stretched on the football field.

"Rachel what are you doing?"

She blinked up at her, the mid-afternoon sun near but blinding her. "I have a study period Quinn, and I decided I wanted to be out here, and not the library,"

Quinn bit her lip, "I have a study period too," she said.

Damn you timetable gods, making us have a study period together; this was fate's intervention wasn't it.

Rachel perched herself up on her elbows, looking at her, "You can sit with me if you want," she said gingerly.

Quinn looked at the spot next to her, as though it was this unfamiliar territory, despite the fact Quinn had been on this football field countless times before for Cheerio Practice. Ever since Quinn had pretty much shoved all those summer letter's down Rachel's throat, they had been tiptoeing around each other, like they were land fill mines and any sudden movements, would detonate all these feelings neither of them were sure of. Singing together, had just made everything even more fragile, as though neither of them were so sure of what the other was thinking.

For the better part, Quinn curled her legs and sat down next to her. There was silence for a moment, before Quinn tilted her head.

"Have you…"

"Every single one…" Rachel answered and then she paused, smiling slightly, "I especially liked the one around the 20th of July, when half the page is smudged because clearly your pen fell to pieces,"

Quinn groaned, "God, it went everywhere, it stained my shirt and everything,"

"Well Fives that's what happens when you think _bluebell_ is a reputable stationary company…" Rachel stiffened slightly, realizing she had used that name again, "I'm sorry," she muttered, "I meant to say Quinn,"

"But I like it when you call me fives," Quinn whispered.

Rachel possibly stopped breathing for about five seconds, before lying back down again, flat against the grass and staring up at the sky. "You ever wonder how things will turn out, if you'll reach all your dreams in the end?"

Quinn chewed the inside of her lips again, it was so strange to have the person in her letters, right in front of her, spilling the words she loved in real life. It was almost like Quinn could see the ink floating around them.

"You could rip a piece of paper into a hundred thousand million pieces and you still would have no idea," Quinn said, feeling the gentle breeze of the first day of autumn closing around them.

Rachel grinned into the sky, realizing the game they were about to start, "You could burn up all this grass so it would turn into smoldering ash, and you wouldn't have a clue."

Quinn closed her eyes, she loved the way autumn felt, the way you could smell the crisp of the leaves in the air, even before the seasons had ticked over. When she was little, she would rake up all the leaves in her yard and lie in them like a great big orange blanket.

"You could pick all the most beautiful flowers," Quinn said, "throw them from the highest cliff, watch them fall into the ocean, and you would never really know,"

Quinn was turning seventeen soon, she felt like she was aging so rapidly and she had no idea how to control it. She had known Rachel nearly her whole life, ever since she had first poked fun at her on the playgrounds in first grade. Now it was almost like she was relearning her again. Like the story was being rewritten.

"You could rip all the hair from your head, stomp on your heart until it was a twisted, mattered mess and still you wouldn't be able to understand," Rachel replied.

Quinn lay with Rachel, entombed in their momentary creation of strung out sentences, that would never make any sense to anyone other than them. Because it's the same type of words that were written in their letters. Poetic strings of _what ifs_ just to abandon a certain silence _what is_. Quinn could see the clouds drift in from the east; she wondered if there would ever be a time in her life, where she would feel her childhood ending.

Do you feel it?

Do you feel it fading away, feel it being released into the wind and replaced all the carefree made up words with responsibilities?

"You'll reach your dreams Rachel," Quinn said softly, she sounded so adamant, she even caught herself off guard.

"It's not fair," she Rachel responded bluntly, her tone kicked up and whipped Quinn in the face, causing Quinn to frown.

She watched Rachel roll to her side, and now Quinn was looking up at her.

"What's not fair?" Quinn asked.

"This,"

"What?"

"Us?"

"You lost me," Quinn said, when really she knew what Rachel was trying to point out. The only problem was Quinn was at a loss as to what to say.

Rachel eyed her, with that intense look that had slowly begun to make Quinn tremble.

Quinn immediately felt stupid, selfish even, for lying to her, when Rachel was the one person who could probably see straight through her. She felt out of touch and ashamed, helpless to their situation.

God was it even a situation?

Quinn's mind was like fog; all her thoughts were consumed by the faltering refrain of her feelings.

Why was she holding back, why was she so afraid?

"It's not fair," Rachel repeated, "That I can't just hold your hand,"

_God almighty_

"May…maybe you can," Quinn stammered, she imagined two distinct outlines, matching their sizes, embedded within the grass. Would people walking by recognize their outlines, recognize that they had spent nearly all of their study period lying side by side. Just two reserved spaces, and all either of them wanted, was to merge into one distinct soul.

Slowly Quinn felt Rachel's hand slip down her side. God one touch, one brush and that was it; that was it in whatever rule book Quinn had conjured up in her head.

It started with the stroke of Rachel's finger, grazing the side of Quinn's palm, and then before she had time to open her eyes again, she felt Rachel's hand slip into hers.

Curl and lay as still as their hearts.

"You fit," Quinn choked.

"Maybe I've always fit," she responded.

Quinn tightened their hands together, maybe there's more to hand holding than what people give credit for. Maybe when you reach for someone's hand, you're asking them to link with you, asking them to hold onto you, because you're too afraid to do it alone.

"Did you really mean it when you said you love me?"

Quinn turned her face, so she could look at her, lying side by side, grass all around them.

"Or do you love my words?"

"What's the difference Rachel?"

"Everything," she murmured, "Just like there's a difference between loving someone, and being _in love_ with someone,"

"Rachel," Quinn sighed, "You have to understand I'm not use to this,"

"Quinn," she huffed, "I understand that my being a female is a little daunting particularly considering I possess lady lumps, although not as big as Santana's…"

"Rachel!" Quinn said, half smirking, "I mean I'm not use to love,"

Rachel frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Rachel sometimes when I wake up I have this burning sensation in my chest, like I want to jump you,"

Rachel flushed, "Quinn that is highly inappropriate for school grounds…"

Quinn smirked, "It's more that though, I'm trying not to be confused, and then I realise that I feel like you're the only person in this world that understands the words in my head,"

It had never been about anything physical. It had been love by words. When you start to learn things about someone, learn things that you can't physically see. Everything on the outside slowly starts to disappear. You begin to breathe in the scent of their skin, learn the beats of their heat as it ticks over and over again, you find resource in their energy. Suddenly you are introduced to the essence of the person, not just their shell. When you get to know someone, all the lines on their body, the colours of their eyes, their shape, suddenly becomes interwoven, as though all their imperfections disappear and become irrelevant. Maybe that's the whole point of love, even if you have your eyes closed for the rest of your life, you'd still love them anyway. Even so as the days wore on Quinn found herself wondering what Rachel would look like underneath her clothes.

_God!_

"Rachel, have you ever heard of that saying what you see is what you get?"

Rachel nodded slowly,

Quinn breathed deeply, "Well what if there's more to people than what other people see?"

"Quinn, if you're trying to tell me that it's what's on the inside that counts, I can assure you I learnt my lesson today…."

"No, what I am saying Rachel, is that I see you, and I want to know if I _get _you too,"

"Quinn…"

"If I can get all of you Rachel, not just what I see,"


	19. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

**High School, Junior Year**

_Maybe broken hearts, are the ones worth reaching for_

* * *

><p>"Santana," Quinn said turning to her.<p>

Santana stopped folding the piece of paper into a small crane to look at her.

"When did you know you loved Britts?"

Santana raised an eyebrow, "You mean before I admitted it?"

Quinn nodded.

Santana thought a moment, "Q, I don't really know. It wasn't as though I was staring at every hot girl I saw coming and wondering what to do about it, I mean god, I dated Puck didn't I?"

Quinn half smirked, that seemed like so long ago.

"I just fell in love with my best friend, it wasn't this huge thing, but I guess it took me a while to figure that out, you know,"

"Weren't you afraid of what everyone was going to say?"

Santana snorted, "Quinn have you been living under a rock all this time? Were you not there when I was hyperventilating into brown paper bags,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "San, you were hyperventilating in brown bags, thinking they were going to axe Jersey shore,"

Santana bit her lip, "this is true,"

"What's up Q? Are you trying to tell me you're gay?"

There was this glint in Santana's eye, as though she thought she was being hysterical.

Quinn didn't say anything at first which caused Santana to stop smiling.

"Wait? Rewind five seconds, Q…are you…what?"

"No," Quinn said immediately, "No I'm just curious as to how you felt coming out to everyone,"

Santana seemed sceptical, "Jesus Q, you gave me a heart attack, the thought of you not telling me something like that…" she paused, "Well it's just not right,"

Quinn felt a sting run itself across her chest, like a sting ray had suddenly floated by and decided Quinn was its next victim.

"I guess I'm just trying to work through some stuff,"

Santana smirked, "Q, you're always trying to work through stuff, when are you going to learn to live a little, things aren't as bad as what they seem,"

Quinn bit her lip, when did Santana become so okay with high school?

"Look I know things are a mess with Frannie; and I know sometimes you just want to retreat into that shell of yours, but I'm here Q, I've always _just_ been here,"

"I know," she murmured, "I know that San, I just sometimes…" Quinn stopped; she didn't even know what she was trying to say.

"Christmas break is on its way, we'll have a few days to unwind and we can go look at the lights around Lima or something, you've always liked that,"

Quinn grinned, she loved Christmas.

"For now though," Santana said gritting her teeth, "We have to deal with the goddamn football team invading Glee Club,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "God almighty I thought Kurt was joking,"

Santana stood up from where she had been leaning back on the bleachers, she wrapped her Cheerio's jersey tighter around her body, "You know, you would think that because we cheer for them, we'd actually like them,"

Quinn shrugged, "Aside from Puck and Finn, they're the only people in this school, who make a point of using slushies against us,"

The bell signalled the start of classes, and Quinn followed Santana down from the bleachers, maybe this thing with Rachel really wasn't this dramatic situation. Then again since when was anything with Rachel Berry not dramatic?

. . .

"No me gusta, Schuester, NO ME GUSTA!"

"Santana sit down," Mr Schuester replied folding his arms.

"No I agree with Santana on this one, Mr Schue," Mercedes said, "We are not welcoming the football team into this room,"

"You said that we would go down to the football field and sing a couple of songs!" Kurt said angrily, "Now they're coming into our home? It's like matching polka dots with stripes all in the one outfit, you just don't do it!"

Coach Beiste glanced at Mr Schuester, from where she stood just right of the piano, "Not even as a special favour to me?"

"Look Coach Beiste," Mercedes spoke up, "I'm all for our football team winning something this season, but how are we supposed to allow the guys who slushie us every other day into our classroom? We're inviting the enemy in!"

"You let Puck and Finn in?" she replied and Mercedes sunk in her chair.

"With all due respect Ms Beiste," Artie responded, "Puck and Finn actually stand up for us now, and you're not the one who literally got beaten in the hallways,"

Coach Beiste sighed slightly, "Kids, I'm trying to evoke unity; not just in my football team but also in the school, but to do that I need you to work with me,"

"Coach is right guys," Mr Schuester said, folding his arms, "The last two years of high school is about working together as a team, if we can't formulate that now, then we'll never get there,"

Quinn watched as he called for the football players standing outside, and suddenly the room was full of red and white uniforms, and huge guys the size of houses. They filed to the left of the room, and huddled together, as though the Glee Club was going to give them a disease or something.

"Now boys," Coach Beiste said, "The Glee Club has kindly agreed to teach you a few things,"

"If I have to stay, I'm not singing no show tunes. That is the music of my oppressors," Azimio interjected.

"Excuse me," Rachel spoke up, "Broadway is an exceptional category of music, and we don't just sing Broadway, Mr Schuester allows us to stretch our contemporary wings,"

Azimio looked Rachel up and down "Oh, baby elf! You can hit me as many times as you want!"

Quinn clenched her fists, "Azimio," she yelled suddenly, without even thinking.

The rest of the class faces' were so perplexed it made Quinn close her mouth before she'd even had the chance to defend Rachel properly.

"Look," Finn continued, "Glee Club teaches you stuff,"

Azimio snorted, "Yo man how many times do we gotta go through this? You being a jock in this Glee Club does not make you versatile. It makes you bisexual,"

"Enough!" Coach Beiste yelled, placing her hands on her hips, god she wasn't even her teacher and Quinn was just about ready to start trembling. "You guys have got to find a way to come together or we're gonna get our asses kicked from here until Tuesday finds a saddlebuck full of buckwheat!"

Quinn frowned, how did that make sense?

"I don't want to sit here listening to show tunes!" Azimio responded gritting his teeth.

"Well I don't want you to either, clearly your talent would never surpass mine," Rachel shot back eyeing him and flicking her hair over her shoulder.

Quinn bit her lip, _god that hair flick_.

"Rachel," Mr Schuester said, "I believe you and Puck have a song organised?"

Rachel eyed the football team gathered in the corner, "As offended as I am by their presence here, I won't let anything get in the way of a performance; Noah," she said standing up, "Please count me in,"

Quinn eyes were permanently fixated on Azimio, as he stared at Rachel walking to the front of the room. His body language and his glare suggested he wanted to rip her open. Quinn clenched her teeth, if he fucking touched her, she would kill him.

Puck smirked slightly, rising and fetching the guitar from the side of the room; he threw it over his shoulder and let his fingers start the conversation with the guitar strings.

_Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor.  
><em>

_Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it any more._

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind._

_For me it happens all the time._

_It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now._

_I said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now.__  
><em>

_And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.__  
><em>

Through the entire performance, Rachel eyes had been on Quinn. But Quinn's eyes had been staring at Azimio, for the better part of it, she did not want him anywhere near Rachel at all.

**. . .**

Not long ago, about three weeks after Quinn had discovered she was pregnant, she had been quietly pacing in one of the library aisles. Maybe she had been looking for answers, maybe she had been looking for somewhere to hide, she can't remember now. But she will always remember a certain book she had found. In this book, the author spoke about _thermodynamic miracles_. This was a term used to describe events that were so unlikely; they became effectively impossible; kind of like the possibility of oxygen spontaneously becoming gold. Quinn had become so lost in the books words that she had borrowed it and taken it home that night. It lead on to explain how sometimes miracles also form a specific chaos from the improbability of them happening, that sometimes the world becomes so full of people, so crowded with particular types of expectations, that when true miracles happen, we forget that they even exist. Maybe that's what the book had been trying to say, that there's certain things in your life that can still take your breath away.

There was a squeal and then that familiar sound of ice being met with someone's face. Quinn looked up from where she had been balancing Santana's books in her arms, so Santana could shove more textbooks into her bag.

"I'm going to be the hunchback of Notre dame one day I swear," she muttered.

Quinn was too busy seething; Azimio had just thrown a slushie down the front of Rachel's sweater.

Santana looked up when Quinn hadn't responded and saw her staring at Rachel, "Q," she said, "Go help Berry, I've got these books,"

Quinn frowned at her, "San…"

"Go!" Santana insisted, and she took the books from Quinn's arms.

One last look at her and Quinn turned around towards Rachel, but she had already started running from the hallways.

"Rachel," Quinn said half running to catch up with her, "Rachel, stop walking so damn fast,"

_God she's so small, how the hell is she getting away from me?_

Rachel whirled around so quickly, Quinn nearly crashed into her.

"I am so sick of this. I am so sick and tired of their comments and their stupid method of attack,"

"Rachel," Quinn sighed, "You've just had a rough day okay, everything will be back to norm…"

"Quinn look at me! I still get slushied! Maybe these slushies aren't coming from you… or Santana…" Rachel trailed off slightly, her brow creasing, "Which is really strange, because Santana hasn't been as mean to me lately…"

Quinn melted as she changed her train of thought again.

"You know sometimes it might be nice, that when I say I'm okay, someone hugs me and says, I know you're not,"

Quinn stepped towards her, she didn't care who was watching, she didn't care that Rachel's sweater was covered in ice; the only thing that mattered right now was Rachel. She tugged her arm lightly, prying them away from where they had been folded across her chest in defence. Rachel was staring at her, her eyes locked on Quinn's.

Quinn pulled Rachel into her arms, wrapping her up as tight as she could, "I know you're not," she whispered.

Rachel simultaneously seemed to relax under Quinn's grip. After a moment Quinn pulled away, "Spend the afternoon with me?" She asked, "I want to take you somewhere,"

Rachel stuttered slightly, "But Quinn, I look like a Popsicle and we have a maths pop quiz the day after tomorrow…"

"And you'll ace it like you ace everything," Quinn said rolling her eyes, "I'll get you another sweater, if you just be with me for the afternoon…"

"Where are you taking me?" Rachel asked.

Quinn smirked, "The south side of anywhere…"

**. . .**

Quinn had forced herself to look away as Rachel changed into one of her old jumpers she always left in her car. The thought of actually seeing Rachel in that way was almost too hard to handle. She was just confused and not sure how to even process the attraction that kept growing.

Quinn pulled her car into her grandfather's driveway; the clouds had closed over this afternoon, making the sky seem colourless, as though it too, was just going through one of those days.

"Quinnie," her grandfather smiled, from where he sat on the familiar wooden chair on his porch, "Don't you have homework?"

Quinn smirked at Rachel's expression, _'oh god yes we do!'_

"Pop, I brought someone to meet you," she said, climbing the small steps and basically pulling Rachel with her.

"This is my grandfather Mr Snippet, also known as America's world war two veteran," Quinn said, her grandfather eyed her knowing she'd done that on purpose.

"Hello Mr Snippet, my name is Rachel Berry, I would like to firstly thank you for your services to our country," Rachel responded.

A wide grin spread across his face as he seemed to hold the small teapot in the air mid-way before pouring it into his mug.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Berry," and he extended his hand for Rachel to shake.

"Quinnie," he said still grinning, "Where did you find this fine specimen?"

Rachel flushed bright read causing Quinn to laugh lightly.

"She holds me to the ground Pop," she said.

Her grandfather tilted his head slightly, "Well, she must be special, come both of you, I was wondering how on earth I would play Bingo by myself, but now that you're here…"

Rachel all of a sudden brightened, "Mr Snippet, you enjoy Bingo?"

"Not as much as chess, my dear girl, but Bingo does well to sharpen the brain cells,"

Quinn smirked, "Pop, Rachel will have you on your toes,"

"Well," he said, "Come inside and we'll see,"

As her grandfather made the kitchen table ready, Quinn pulled a box, labelled cookies, from the top of the cupboard and set it on the table.

"I must admit Mr Snippet, I am excellent in most things, but Bingo is a secret talent of mine,"

Quinn's grandfather laughed, "Let's play then Miss Berry, let's play!"

**. . .**

Maybe it's all the little things in life that define who we are and what we love. Like the first scoop of a newly bought ice-cream tub, waking up to a fresh blanket of snow in the winter time, or opening a parcel you've been waiting to receive, for months. Maybe it was okay to still feel unsure, to still feel scared or afraid of how they felt, because all they needed right now, were the little glances shared between them, the secret brushes of fingertips in the hall, the small words whispered between lunch and study periods.

"Mr Snippet," Rachel suddenly said and Quinn looked up from her card, she was losing by a mile.

"Can I ask you something?"

Quinn's grandfather peered at her from over the top of his black trimmed glasses, his wispy grey hair was so unkempt today and his face left unshaven, he reminded Quinn of a dis-shelved Santa Claus.

"Miss Berry, if you are asking me if we can play another round, I'm afraid five games of bingo in a row is too much for my stress levels, perhaps we could try poker?" and he winked.

Rachel smiled at him sheepishly, "No, I wanted to know how strong or worthy a heart has to be, to give it to someone,"

Quinn looked at her immediately, what on earth did she mean by that? That was such a left fielded question, it made Quinn's ears nearly leap from the side of her head, just so they could listen closely.

He looked at her a moment, peering at her, as though she was perhaps the most curious thing he'd seen in a while, "I am not entirely sure what you mean Miss Berry,"

Rachel took a deep breath, not looking at Quinn on purpose, "Well I want to give me heart to someone, but I've been heartbroken before, and I'm afraid that my heart won't be enough for them, it's got pieces missing…"

Quinn's own heart had turned into the drum kit again, as she tried to keep her hands flat against the table.

Her grandfather rubbed his chin slightly, "I'll tell you a story Miss Berry, one that I learnt from Quinn's grandmother,"

Quinn leant forward slightly, she loved when he spoke about her, she was still so young when she had passed away, and any new information about her was almost like another chapter in a book Quinn didn't get to finish.

Her grandfather cleared his throat, "There was a young man once, who decided to come into his town square, and declare that he had the most beautiful heart in all the valley. Mind you, a large crowd had gathered just to admire his heart. They all agreed, stating that his heart was perfect, it did not have a single mark, or tear or flaw in it,"

Quinn watched as her grandfather pushed aside his bingo place card to rest his hands on top of the wooden table.

"Out of the crowd came an older man, who challenged the man with the beautiful heart. He said that the young man's heart was not nearly as beautiful as his. The crowd looked at the older man's heart, and disagreed with him. It had places where pieces had been removed, it was rough and jagged and full of scars. The crowd was confused, how could he think that his heart was more beautiful than that of the flawless heart?"

Quinn was staring at Rachel, she was so lost in her grandfather's story it made her melt.

"The young man laughed at the older man, stating that his heart was a complete mess. The older man agreed with him, but also insisted that he would never trade his heart. His heart, he reasoned had scars that represented all the people he had given his love to. He would tear out a piece of his heart and give it to them. Sometimes they would give him a piece of their heart too, but because all the pieces weren't exact, his heart developed rough edges, but even so he cherishes them, because they remind him of the love they once shared,"

Quinn was fighting her trembling lips all over again.

"Miss Berry," her grandfather reasoned, "Sometimes the scars that are left, are very painful, sometimes the pieces you give away don't always get returned, but to give the entirety of your heart, or even just a piece, is a very brave thing to do,"

"But do you think the person would want it?"

_Yes Rachel, yes I want you heart, give it to me._

"Rachel," her grandfather said smiling, this was the first time he had said her first name, and the way he said it just made Quinn melt even more.

"I think you might find that there is never a person whose heart is completely intact. People live their lives searching for the one person who will help to heal all those scars. So perhaps you should be brave enough to give your heart to _your person_ Miss Berry?"

Quinn watched her grandfather go back to the small bingo wheel on the table, to draw the next number. She felt Rachel lean across her and reach for the pen beside Quinn's hand.

She scribbled a heart on her place card with a question mark.

Quinn stared at her, and she nodded.


	20. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

High School, Junior Year

_And if ever you feel invisible, just remember I'm always just here_

* * *

><p>Maybe the biggest fault of the world is that everyone forgets to realise that no one really has it easy. Everyone has problems. To measure these problems would be to tell someone their problem isn't as great as another's; when really if something is important to someone, shouldn't it be considered as great of a problem as anyone else's? We don't know what other people go through; we don't know what goes on in their lives, just as much as they don't know what goes on in ours. So maybe before anyone starts mocking, or judging or questioning someone, we should remember that most people are fighting their own wars.<p>

Quinn closed her maths book as the bell signalled.

"Q, I'll email you the answers if you want?"

She smirked at Mike, "You do too much for me already," she said.

He shrugged, "There'll come a day when I need rescuing, I plan to ask you first,"

Quinn smirked at him, "Done deal Mikey,"

She followed him out into the halls, waved goodbye as he ran to catch up with Finn and made her way towards her lockers. Santana and Brittany were always held back in English, because Brittany would always ask for the homework to be explained another five times. Quinn leant against Santana's locker; she had not stopped thinking about what Rachel had said the other week, about wanting to give her heart to Quinn.

How could she trust her so much with it?

It was the letters. It had to be the letters.

Or maybe it was more than that, maybe it was about all their conversations, sitting on the bleachers or in Quinn's car after school. Sitting and talking about all the things that everyone seems to have in common. Like becoming annoyed when your favourite song plays on the radio just as you've pulled into the driveway; or pretending to be asleep when your parents come in to check on you; or when people walk too slow and you can't overtake them.

"Fives,"

Quinn felt Rachel at her side, before she'd even had the chance to stop thinking about her. It was like she has just stepped straight out of her mind, and into the hallways.

"I want to drop you home,"

Quinn frowned, "You want to what?"

"I want to drop you home…"

Quinn looked at her, "Rachel I came with Mercedes today, if I tell them that I'm going home with you…"

"Well make something up okay! I really want you to listen to this song, I made a whole CD and I just reall…."

"Okay!" Quinn laughed, "I'll meet you outside?"

Rachel nodded, "I just have to see Coach Beiste about something,"

Quinn did a double take for a moment, "Rachel why are you having meetings with the football coach?"

"Oh she's asked me to sing the national anthem at the championship game,"

Quinn smirked, _well naturally_.

"Don't be late," Quinn urged, "I have maths homework,"

"To copy from Mike?"

Quinn hit Rachel playfully with her textbook as she skipped around her, to head towards the football field.

She watched her go, and for the first time in her whole life, she felt disheartened that Rachel had left her standing there, she wanted her to come back. Quinn watched as the students filtered around her, passing their lockers, saying '_see you tomorrow'_ or '_I'll be over tonight'_. Couples kissing each other's cheek, friends running for the bus, sometimes she wondered how easy it would be to disappear into a crowd.

Maybe that's what love is you know, an anchor, so you don't drift away.

"Hi Quinn,"

Quinn turned slightly to see Ms Pillsbury suddenly in front of her.

"Just checking up on you Q,"

Quinn stared at her briefly, "I'm fine," but that was probably the lie of the century for any given teenager.

Emma gave a small shrug, "Oh I'm sure if you weren't you would come to me, correct?"

Quinn let her shoulders slump slightly, over the past year; she had come to three conclusions. A) She wasn't as good at hiding her emotions as she once thought, B) adults would always assume she wasn't fine, but carry on as though they thought she was, and C) she could never ever hide a bad mood from Kurt without him insisting she remove herself from his presence until she was in a better one.

"I will," Quinn reasoned.

It wasn't until Ms Pillsbury had walked away, did Quinn realise she had actually missed talking to her. Before she could justify this in her own head, Brittany had jumped out at her, causing her to nearly drop her books.

"Mercedes brought her Britney Spears album, we going to crank it in the _Cedes Mobil_!"

Quinn felt Santana link arms with her, and she was dragged out into the afternoon sunshine.

Ten minutes later, Quinn was racking her brain trying to think of a believable excuse to hang behind and wait for Rachel.

"My Mum's picking me up," she eventually decided.

Kurt frowned, "Wasn't your mum in court today?"

_God dammit he knows me too well_

"Yes, but she's got a break, so she's coming to get me, think she wants a quick talk,"

Kurt shrugged, "Okay, your call, I promised your grandfather I would prune his roses this afternoon before winter hits,"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Kurtastical, you spend more time with Snips than your own bird,"

Kurt pretended to be shocked, "Santana I resent that, Pavarotti gets plenty of my attention,"

"Stop the talking and get in the car!" Mercedes yelled, "I got One tree Hill recorded on Tvo and I _need_ to watch it,"

Kurt rolled his eyes and filtered into the backseat with Brittany, who was still attempting to blow the world's biggest bubble gum bubble.

"She's been doing that all day," Quinn said as Santana popped the boot and threw her school bag in with the others.

"She'll stop in about thirty minutes,"

"How so?"

Santana grinned, "Because when I offer sweet lady kisses, Britts can't refuse,"

Quinn smirked, "Call me later tonight?"

Santana nodded _yes_, pecking her cheek quickly before hoping in the passenger seat next to Mercedes.

Quinn watched them file out of the car park, with the rest of the usual student traffic.

She squinted around for Rachel's red commodore, and then she saw the small star blinking in the sunlight. She dumped her school bag beside the wheel, and hopped onto the bonnet, the metal was still warm from the sun that day. It wouldn't be long before, all the cars would have frosted windows, and students would write secret coded messages to each other. The air was still warm during the day, but during the night, you could feel that winter was almost here.

"Waiting for the Stork Q?"

Quinn glared up as Coach Sylvester stalked past her towards her car. Damn massive Toyota Hilux, tray back, with the top pulled over, lord knows what she was hiding underneath the vinyl, probably a decade worth of protein shakes.

"He decided to go on vacation for a few years," she replied glaring at her.

Coach Sylvester stared at her, "You know Q, when I first laid eyes on you, I was reminded of a young Sue Sylvester, though you don't have my bone structure,"

What in the world was that supposed to mean?

"You stick by your word Q, you make sure you win me my championship,"

Quinn rolled her eyes; it was uncanny how she referred to it as being _her_ championship, god Mr Schuester was so different.

"See you tomorrow Ms Sylvester," she responded, and her coach turned her nose up at her, as though seeing Quinn tomorrow was not her idea of pleasant.

**. . .**

Another twenty minutes rolled by and Quinn was now officially agitated. She said she'd be five minutes! Where the hell was Rachel? This was probably going to be the last time Quinn agreed to ride home with her and not Mercedes. Cedes always started the Volvo up right after the bell sounded, and they were out before the rush. Now the car park was empty, apart from Principal Figgins old station wagon and the janitors yellow box on wheels. Quinn folded her arms. This was not helping the whole _I am working on my nice feelings_ for Rachel Berry, this was causing the _I want to smack her over the head_ feelings.

Quinn glanced sideways across the football field, nothing.

She trailed her eyes back to the front steps of the school, nothing.

She left her backpack on top Rachel's commodore before stalking across the car park, and heading to the side of the school building. Honestly Mike would have probably signed on and off IM before Quinn had even got the chance to hunt down the answers. Then Quinn heard it, something that sent chills right through her spine, a scream erupted from the lockers just offset to the gym. Picking up her pace, she rounded the corner, and pushed the door to the boy's lockers inwards.

"Hello?" she called.

"Don't, please don't… get off me,"

Another cry.

Quinn stilled, _fuck_ that was Rachel.

Quinn ran towards the sound of her cries and the image that played out before her, nearly made her sick.

Azimio stood above Rachel, gripping her wrists, pushing her into the ground. Rachel's clothes were ripped, his jeans were open, and he had this look like a wolf, a wolf that would show no mercy.

"Do not touch her," Quinn yelled.

She was blind; blind with this unkempt rage inside her that she had never felt before.

Quinn saw red.

She saw the nearest thing she could use as a weapon, which happened to be a chair, sitting beside a row of lockers. Quinn pulled it into her hands and raised it above her head, she walked as close to Azimio as she could and then she brought the chair back down on top of him. The crunching of steel against the back of his skull was enough to bring her back into reality as Azimio immediately stumbled to the side. Rachel was crumpled beneath him, and Quinn now realised how much her shirt had been ripped open, her bra was showing, mascara smudged on the sides of her cheeks; from where she had been crying and begging and trying to fight him off. Her eyes were closed tightly, as though maybe this was just a nightmare she would wake up from.

"I will kill you," Quinn seethed raising the chair again.

Blood was pouring from the side of Azimio's head, the open wound that Quinn had caused oozing.

"You crazy bitch," he muttered, and Quinn took another swipe.

Azimio dodged it uneasily though, because he crashed into the lockers, tripping over his own feet, before he took off running.

Quinn threw the chair with a clatter to the side of the room, "Rachel," she whispered, folding down beside her.

Quinn ripped her own cardigan from her body and placed it over Rachel, "Rachel please," she begged, "Open your eyes it's me, I have you, god _baby _please,"

Rachel's eyes blinked open slowly and from them spilt fresh new tears, she reached for Quinn, who took her immediately. She wrapped her up in her arms and held her there for what seemed like hours.

Quinn hadn't wanted to leave the school property until they had reported it to either Principal Figgins or the police, but Rachel had begged her to just take her home, and short of wanting to just strip all the pain from her, Quinn gave into all her requests. She had bundled her into the car, helped sneak her past her Dads, showered her and then stayed with her until she had fallen asleep.

"Rachel," Quinn whispered, as she lay beside her, it was already 8óclock, "Rachel you've been silent this whole time, I think we should still report this,"

Rachel stirred slightly, her arm still clutching the middle of Quinn's waist, god that felt so good.

"He didn't get the whole way Quinn," she finally replied, "What will the police say; oh he ripped your shirt and slobbered all over you…" Rachel involuntarily shuddered and burst into tears all over again.

_Christ_ Quinn thought she wanted to ring the police herself, that bastard shouldn't be able to get away with this.

She hated him, she wanted to kill him.

"I can still feel him, it's like he's crawling over my skin; I hate it,"

Quinn shifted slightly, so she could lean down to look at her, "Tell me what to do,"

Rachel's eyes were filled with salty tears again, "Make it go away," she begged.

Quinn leant down and kissed her neck softly, instantly Rachel's skin broke out in Goosebumps.

Quinn trailed her lips across Rachel's collarbone, god maybe this would just have to do, even if she so badly wanted her lips, maybe she would just have to suffice for her skin instead, "You won't be able to feel him, if my lips have been the last ones to be here,"

Rachel whimpered as Quinn moved her way to the centre of her chest, kissing through the material of Rachel's t-shirt, knowing she could still feel her.

"You're burning," Quinn whispered, urgently, Jesus she wasn't coming down with a fever was she?

"You set me on fire," Rachel replied gripping the back of her head, her hands became tangled in Quinn's hair, just the taste of Rachel made Quinn want to pass out.

Quinn shifted her body as gently as possible, was this too much in light of what had happened? She hated the fact he had touched her, this was hers, well almost hers, no fuck this, Rachel _was_ hers, and that bastard would never touch her again. Quinn didn't want Rachel to be in pain, she wanted to take it from her; she wanted to take all of her pain, just so Rachel didn't have to bear it.

"Quinn," Rachel murmured, "Get on top of me,"

Quinn nearly fainted.

She slid her body over Rachel, god she enveloped her, Rachel was so small and delicate she was nearly swallowed by the bed sheets beneath them.

Quinn was so focused on kissing the crevices of Rachel's neck, so focused on begging her own lips not to match Rachel's, because that would take everything to the next level and they had to be sure, that she hadn't realised Rachel had slowly unbuttoned her shirt.

"Quinn please," Rachel begged.

Quinn's thoughts were completely jumbled she couldn't process anything, let alone find a suitable answer.

She stopped to look at her, and she touched her nose against Rachel's. Eyes locked together, lips barely apart, so much that Quinn was breathing in Rachel every time she inhaled.

"Kiss me," Rachel said.

"I am," Quinn responded weakly.

"No, kiss my lips,"

_God almighty_

"Rachel," she whispered, their lips were so close, closer than they had ever been before. Quinn knew she would have to do it first. She knew it would have to be her.

"Are you sure? You're so vulnerable; I don't want you to take advantage of you,"

Rachel stared at her, "You saved me," she responded quietly, "Can't you feel how hard my heart is beating?"

Quinn could feel it, it was thudding so hard against her chest, she thought it might literally cause a collision between her own thudding heart. Feeling her heart also meant feeling Rachel's breasts, which was such a weird sensation, because Quinn had never wanted to press her hands against another girls...

"Rachel?"

They both jumped slightly, at the sound of Leroy coming up the stairs. Quinn hung her head, before rolling away from her, moving to the corner of Rachel's bed just as he popped his head in the door.

"Oh you are home, when did you get in? and Quinn!" he greeted, "Staying for dinner?"

"Yes," Rachel answered before Quinn could protest.

He frowned slightly as he looked at Rachel, "Sweetheart, are you coming down with a fever? You're all flushed?"

* * *

><p>"Rachel this is completely ridiculous," Quinn argued, as Rachel sat with her arms folded in her front seat.<p>

"Quinn I don't want to report it!"

"You have to!"

"No I don't!"

Quinn let out a huff of anguish, god why was she being so difficult?

Rachel slid slightly in the seat; she still had her seat belt on, as though this was supposed to hold her together, when all she really wanted to do was fall apart.

"Rachel what Azimio tried to do… it was wrong… and you shouldn't be alone…"

"I'm not alone," she responded quietly and she looked at Quinn, "You're here,"

Quinn stared at her, she remembered back to a time when she and Frannie had been playing in their grandparent's garden. Quinn had managed to get a small butterfly to land in her palm. She stood stock still for a solid fifteen minutes, because she was so scared that if she made any sudden movements the butterfly would fly away; any sudden movements and the butterfly would have second thoughts about how much it trusted her.

"Rachel you should never have to feel unsafe at school…"

Rachel shrugged lightly, "I guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time…"

Quinn groaned again, "Rachel for god's sake, I really don't want to use this term, but I think I might have to, Azimio attempted to rape you!"

On cue, Rachel burst into tears, and Quinn instantly felt the butterfly leave her palm.

"Rachel," she said again, "Rachel I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so…god" she rubbed her hands over her face, "I hate knowing what he almost did,"

Rachel stopped hiccupping for a moment, and straightened herself, "He _almost_ did Quinn," she said softly, "but _didn't _because of you,"

Quinn relaxed a little, but she was still riled up, "Rachel your shirt was ripped and…"

"I burnt it…" she said adamantly and Quinn softened.

"Can I tell you something?" Rachel asked looking at her and Quinn nodded.

"When I was little, I use to play this game with myself, pretending that I had the power to make myself invisible. I would put on some sunglasses or a headband and then _bam_, just like that the whole wide world could never find me,"

Quinn glanced briefly at her headband, "Is that why you wear headbands nearly every day?"

Rachel smirked slightly, "I guess; maybe the whole point of it, is this suspension of belief, that whenever I'm scared I could become invisible,"

Rachel sighed, "Azimio still found me,"

Quinn leant over and snapped Rachel's seatbelt off, letting it slide over her, "Well I found you too," she whispered, and she traced a circle on Rachel's palm.

"You give me Goosebumps every time you touch me Quinn,"

Quinn laughed lightly, "and you don't?"

They stared at each other for a moment, letting their eyes linger on one another's; Quinn was just lost in the feel of Rachel's skin.

"You know what's not fair," she said lightly and Rachel trailed her eyes over her lips briefly.

"The fact my Dad's won't let me audition for X factor?" Rachel replied.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "No, the fact you've given me a nickname, without me giving you one,"

Rachel crinkled her nose, "Fives, the last time we played this game, you called me Thumbelina, and while that was a very adorable analogy, I think shouting _fairy princess_ in the school halls is a little embarrassing,"

Quinn cupped her hand over her mouth, "Shut up," she said playfully.

"The amount of times you do that," Rachel huffed, and Quinn leant closer to her.

"Smalls," she whispered in her ear, and she felt Rachel tremble.

"Smalls because, from this moment on, I will be big enough and brave enough to protect you from anything, you understand…"

Rachel nodded, their faces were only inches apart; Quinn could just kiss her if she wanted to. Maybe she should, there were no interruptions right now, they were in her car and no one could reach them…

A car horn beeped and Rachel nearly jumped a mile in the air, "My heart," she squealed and Quinn rolled her eyes at her mini drama performance, before scanning her neck to see that her mother had just pulled up and was beeping her out of the driveway.

"Alright woman!" Quinn growled and she switched the engine on to move into the garage.

Quinn pulled herself from the vehicle just as her mother climbed out of hers with the groceries.

"Quinn help me in with these will you?"

Quinn reached for the groceries and bundled them in her arms.

"Can I help Mrs Fabray?" Rachel said shyly as she came out from hiding in Quinn's car.

Judy stared at her a moment, seemingly confused.

"Mum this is Rachel…."

"Berry," Judy said, "You my dear girl have the voice of an angel,"

Quinn tilted her head; she'd never actually heard her mother compliment anyone before.

"Thankyou" Rachel beamed and Quinn shook her head, "_attention seeker_," she mouthed.

"Come on in Rachel," Judy said, fumbling with her house keys, "Stay for dinner,"

**. . .**

"I cannot believe this is happening!"

"Quinn," Rachel reasoned, "Can you please stop pacing, you're making me nervous, I never ever thought I would be in Quinn Fabrays room, let alone on your bed…"

Quinn stopped pacing to look at her, "Greece!" she said, "I'm being shipped to Greece for the summer,"

Rachel shrugged, "Well I could think of worse things,"

"No," she replied exasperated, "I wanted to spend the summer here, with you, with…god I don't even know anymore,"

Over dinner, after her father had worked out that Rachel was in actual fact the same lead in nearly all the school musicals, and quizzed her about a dozen or so things, they had kindly informed Quinn, that they had just purchased airfare tickets to Greece.

Quinn had expected this really, I mean their eldest daughter was getting married and pregnant. But then her mother had also kindly informed her, that they'd purchased one for her too. Then as typical Fabray family dinners went lately, it resulted in Quinn storming to her room. She had slammed the door and then reopened it to fetch Rachel from the bottom of the stairs because Rachel didn't actually know where Quinn's room was.

"I'm not even on speaking terms with Frannie," she said folding her arms across her chest.

Rachel shrugged, "Well maybe that's what they're aiming for, to correct that?"

Quinn bit her lip, moving to her bed and lying down beside Rachel, "But what if Frannie doesn't want to,"

"Fives," Rachel reasoned, "you heard what they said, it's a trade-off, you go to Greece for the summer and they'll let you go to New York for regionals,"

"Oh come off it Rachel, Glee Club would do perfectly fine without me there,"

"Well I wouldn't" she replied staring down at her, and Quinn melted.

Rachel tentatively curled her hand in Quinn's, "I like being beside you," she whispered.

"Can you still feel him?" Quinn asked and Rachel knew she was referring to Azimio.

"Not with you here,"

Quinn smiled softly.

"You know," Rachel said suddenly, "Maybe you might want someone to… maybe go with you this summer?"

Quinn sat up immediately, "What?"

"Only if you want," Rachel stammered, "I mean I completely understand if you would not enjoy my presence…."

Quinn pressed her finger to Rachel's mouth silencing her again, "I love it when you ramble, smalls," she murmured.

Rachel seemed to beam at the name again, it was like her eyes lit up with just the way Quinn said it.

"Rachel, this is Greece, and airfares aren't cheap,"

"Quinn," She said rolling her eyes, "One dad is Jewish and the other is part African, you clearly don't understand the frequent flyer points in our family…"

Quinn smirked, "You'd come with me?"

"We could find our own South side of anywhere?"

Quinn melted, "God Rachel I just want to …" she leant in, she needed to kiss her, she wanted those lips so badly she may as well have nearly exploded.

Quinn's phone sounded in her pocket between them, and they both jumped.

Quinn looked down at her screen and noticed Mike was calling her, sighing she picked it up,

"Mikey," she said, "Perfect timing..."


	21. Chapter 20

Heeeeey my little readers!

Hope all is well!

So can anyone attempt to tell me how to pronounce Azimio? Because in my head I'm literally saying Quasimodo (like the hunch back of Notre Dame haha and okay I LOVE that movie… such a classic, but the imagery just doesn't fit… or you know he could pump out some tunes with Britts… no?)

Also… I may have done a small paragraph or two from someone else's point of view… just to change it up for a tiny little bit… I might continue to do that for you… makes the story interesting I think…

Anyway! I think you'll like this chapter ;)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 20<strong>

High School, Junior Year

_Sometimes people surprise you, like snowflakes in the beginning of winter_

* * *

><p>The first traces of windstorms and snowdrops for the winter happened a week ago.<p>

Quinn had been sitting on her grandfather's porch reading _Emily Dickinson_ and suddenly she had felt something small and cold touch her nose. Brushing it away slightly, she had caught sight of her grandfather's garden. Small little snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky, weaving their way across the rose bushes, down the cobbled driveway and settling in between the spaces of grass amongst the yard. It reminded her of moments, how they're restricted to _right now_, we either have burning stars in our palms or melting snowflakes. Maybe people have more in common with snowflakes than one cares to realise. Each are so intricately woven aren't they? They have different strands joining, different ways of glistening, so much so that each one becomes unique. Maybe humans are so intricately woven, we forget to realise that it's okay to melt sometimes.

Academics define forever as long lasting, for all future time, for always. But what measures always? The sound of the sun rising? The brushes of the wind as you rush out your door, the sound of your lover's heartbeat? Maybe _always_ should be counted in the moments it takes to catch a snowflake. Hold it in your palm and watch it disappear into your soul.

"Can you tell me what happened Rachel?" Ms Pillsbury asked and Quinn stopped staring at the snow globe on her desk.

Rachel inhaled slightly, "Well I went to see Ms Beiste, but she wasn't around, so I thought I'd look in the boys locker room, and then Azimio…" she trailed off, gripping her arms across her chest.

Quinn moved in an instant, so she could wrap an arm around her.

Ms Pillsbury seemed to show more interest in Quinn's sudden emotional development.

"Who found you?" she continued, slightly distracted by how protective Quinn was being.

"I did," Quinn said looking at her, "It was disgusting, he tried to…"

"It's okay," Ms Pillsbury held up her hand, "I think I have the general image, Rachel it's really important to understand that behaviour like this is simply not acceptable,"

She paused briefly, scribbling something down on her notebook, "Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

Rachel shrugged lightly, fighting back those tears all over again, "I didn't think anyone would believe me,"

Ms Pillsbury sighed, "Rachel we take this extremely seriously, and you should never, ever feel as though you couldn't come to me or one of the other staff members about something like this,"

"What will happen to Azimio?" Quinn asked.

She pursed her lips, "Girls you have to understand the nature of this, from a schools perspective, without any concrete evidence, well…" she paused, "Let's just cross that bridge when we come to it shall we…"

"I have evidence,"

Quinn turned sharply, to see Dave Karofsky suddenly standing in the door way, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Dave?" Ms Pillsbury frowned, "You weren't due for another half an hour,"

Quinn glared at him slightly, he attended counselling? What the hell for?

"What Rachel is telling you is correct Ms Pillsbury, I can vouch for her, I have text messages from Azimio saying he was going to do it…."

Ms Pillsbury stood up immediately, "Come in Dave," she said, "Rachel, Quinn, why don't you two go take a walk? Some fresh air before your next class?"

Quinn was still glaring at Karofsky, he was another football player, why the hell would he be ratting out one of team members?

Even so, she gathered Rachel and abandoned Ms Pillsbury's office.

**. . .**

Quinn was meant to go to maths class. This is at least where Rachel thought she was going when Quinn dropped her off at her English Class.

"See you after school?" Rachel had asked.

Quinn had looked at her, as they stood beside a row of lockers, "I'm really proud of you," she had whispered, and she had touched Rachel's nose with her finger.

Shortly after, she had tracked down Karofsky, threatened to scream blue murder if he didn't follow her, and had lead him onto the football field.

"Why'd you do that?" Quinn now asked him as they stood under the bleachers, "I mean let's face it Karofsky… we're not exactly friends,"

He shrugged, "Rachel's alright you know. This one time I was waiting for Finn to drive me home and she hopped in the back seat. She started talking about South Africa as though she'd been there fifty times over. She's smart. She didn't deserve to be put into a situation like that,"

Quinn narrowed her eyes, "I don't believe you," she remarked, "What's the catch? I swear to god if you touch…"

"I won't lay a hand on her Q it's not my thing..." He paused a moment leaning back against the steel of the bleachers. "It's really not my thing…"

Now Quinn was just confused, "Well Karofsky good to see you aren't out to rape girls..." saying that word made her feel sick.

Karofsky sighed, "I see you Quinn," he said suddenly, "I see who you really are,"

Quinn stilled, she had never expected to hear those words from any guy, let alone Dave Karofsky.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're in love with Rachel,"

Quinn nearly felt her stomach give out, "Excuse me, what acid are you on this week…?"

He brushed his hands down his face in mild annoyance, "I see the way you _look_ at her Quinn. This intense longing look, as though you want to literally just run away and be with her,"

"I don't know what you're…"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" he asked exasperated, "We play on the same team Quinn,"

If someone had thrown a basketball right this minute, Quinn would bet $500 they would get a slam dunk in her open jaw.

"I'm sorry wha…"

"If you ever breathe a word I'll deny it…" he responded adamantly.

"Jesus," she whispered, squatting down, she couldn't stand, her legs felt like jelly.

"I'll protect you're secret if you protect mine?"

Quinn glared up at him; she wasn't so sure she wanted to be allied with him, after all wasn't Azimio supposed to be his friend?

"I promise none of the football team will ever slushie Rachel again,"

_Good enough_

Quinn extended her hand, and underneath the bleachers, on a chilly Ohio afternoon, an unusual pact was sealed with a mutual understanding; that sometimes, people surprise you.

* * *

><p><em>Stepping Across a handful of days<em>

"God Berry, why are you always such a dramatic mess?"

Rachel opened the cubicle with a bang, causing Santana to jump.

"Why did you of all people come after me Santana?"

Santana shrugged, "I'm improving my moral conscience; one good deed a day,"

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Great to see I'm on the bucket list,"

Santana groaned, "Rachel what are you so upset about? So you didn't win today's solo off, big deal!"

Rachel crossed her arms, "Glee Club is very important to me Santana, I take all the competitions very seriously,"

"No shit…" Santana muttered and Rachel's shoulder slumped.

Santana tried again, "Are you afraid you're not showing enough emotions in your solos?"

Rachel waved her hand absentmindedly, "Please Santana, I'm perfectly capable of accessing my pain. I cry every time I sing a solo," she paused momentarily, thinking about Azimio, thinking about how her birth mother was the Vocal Adrenaline coach, how could she possibly have time to think about these things when Regionals was so close, and her maths quiz was next week!

"I just worry that I'm not good enough sometimes," Rachel said, "That I don't sing the right songs, and the music I showcase isn't good enough,"

"You choose good songs…" Santana paused, "Most of the time…" she sighed, "Rachel seriously why are you so worked up today?"

_Because I'm scared your cheerleading friends are going to beat me up because I got one of their star football players expelled._

"I don't look like you or Brittany on stage, I'm not _hot_ like you two,"

Santana shrugged, "Well obviously," and then she caught herself.

"Come off it Rachel, you're like a singing jukebox, you can sing anything, someone just presses a button and then you've covered it without even so much as a hiccup,"

Rachel smiled lightly, she'd known Santana nearly her whole life, and this was her way of complimenting her.

"What makes you feel better Rachel?" Santana asked.

Rachel eyed her, "Santana, I understand that you and Brittany like experimenting but I…"

Santana rolled her eyes, "I don't mean that…"

Rachel relaxed slightly, god fantasising about Quinn Fabray was one thing… this would be another altogether.

"Like what cheers you up?" she asked again.

Rachel couldn't understand this side of Santana; she had never seen it before. The fact that Santana was the one that had followed her after her diva fit in the music rooms just before was so strange; Rachel had never actually seen the compassionate Santana Lopez before.

Actually that was a lie.

A few weeks ago, she had been spying on Quinn from under the bleachers. Cheerio's practice was something Rachel just was not ready to make herself present at, so staring at Quinn from the safety of a ton of steel was a better alternative. That and being that close to Quinn in her Cheerio's outfit made her weak. Sue Sylvester still insisted they wear the skirts, even though the snow had crawled over the fields in small doses and the girls were probably freezing to death. But they were so damn short, Rachel was not complaining.

Brittany had fallen from the pyramid, if Rachel had it her way, she would have stormed out from her hiding place and directed the blame at Amber, who had quite clearly pushed her. Brittany wasn't too badly hurt, but Santana reacted as though it was the end of the world. She had bundled Brittany in her arms, kissed her cheek softly and wouldn't let go until Coach Sylvester had demanded they stop with the PDA. Some times Rachel wondered if she would ever get to be like that with Quinn. Would it ever be okay, to tell the world they had feelings for each other? Was that even what they were?

"Christmas," Rachel said, snapping out of her trance.

"Like Christmas cookies?"

Rachel shrugged, "Anything. I just really like this season,"

Santana pursed her lips a moment, before her eyes lit up, "I have something perfect for you,"

Before Rachel had the chance to ask her what it was, Amber had waltz into the bathrooms, Rachel instantly back right away, deliberately putting space between them.

"You rat," Amber said glaring at her, "Crying wolf and getting Azimio expelled like that, I have a right mind to…"

"The earth is full Amber go home…" Santana snapped rounding on her.

Amber raised her eyebrows, "You're standing up for Rachel Berry? Confused Santana? Or just not getting enough sex from Brittany…"

Santana gritted her teeth, "You know Amber, I'd really like to borrow your head for my rock garden…"

Rachel couldn't help but smirk.

"Santana you are such a…"

"Get out," Santana said, "This is the female bathroom, you've been misdirected,"

Amber huffed before turning on her heel and storming from the bathrooms.

"Santana…."

"Do not mention this," Santana said to her, "I'm not ready for the public humiliation, of defending Rachel Berry,"

Rachel smiled lightly; maybe this was enough for now.

* * *

><p>Perhaps the greatest riddle in life, is just knowing that as human beings, well, we do things. Some things we wish we had never done, some we wish we could play and repeat ten million times over just to get the same feelings, some we've long forgotten and some we will never ever forget. But granted, they all make us who we are, and in the end, these are the things shape our very existence. They curve the smiles across our faces, they put the spark in our eyes, they form the tears on our cheeks and the fires burning in our hearts; these things are the keys to every detail about us. So if any of them were to ever be reversed, well, we wouldn't be the person we are would we?<p>

Maybe it had taken Quinn all this time to realise that she just needed to live, maybe she was meant to keep making mistakes in her life because there was still so much she needed to learn, and maybe it was just a case of living and not worrying about what the world would think. Sometimes people have to stop and realise that you can never second guess the moments that have already passed, the places in our lives we have already been. Most importantly though, people should never second guess where they're headed.

Rachel was standing between two pine trees, glaring up at the star sitting on the tip of one. The frost covered the ground in clumps of white flakes that had gradually built over night.

"Fives, I cannot believe you live next to a Christmas farm, that's like Barbara Streisand sitting on your back porch,"

Quinn sneezed slightly, tightening her red scarf around her neck, "It has its perks," she shrugged.

By perks she meant having a new Christmas tree each year because Mr McDonald gave her family half price every year.

There was nothing like fresh pine in the house.

Quinn liked doing these things with Rachel, just simple things, like going and getting hot chocolate after a long day at school, Rachel would study, Quinn would watch her. She seemed to take everything that had happened with ease; Ms Pillsbury had said that it will take time for the nightmares to subside, but that Rachel should always know she should never feel powerless.

"_A voice; no matter how afraid you are to use it Rachel,"_ she had said the other day at another session, _"Is the most powerful tool you own, never be afraid to speak up over anything"_

Even so Quinn was sticking by her promise, no one was ever touching her again, no one except Quinn.

She looked so adorable today, actually maybe it was more than that, even if Rachel was so tightly rugged with woollen, Quinn could still see the outline of her body, and she couldn't stop staring.

"Rachel," Quinn said.

Rachel turned slightly, "Quinn should I get the taller one or the sturdy one for my Dads? My Christmas decorations are quite heavy and Santana said that she was making me a life sized Santa Claus to hang from one of the branches. I think she was going to name it _Santana Claus_ but I can't be sure,"

God when she rambled it was so _fucking_ adorable.

"Rachel," Quinn replied stepping towards her.

"I don't know whether I feel comfortable with a _Santana Claus_ in my lounge room Quinn, lord knows…."

"Rachel shut up!" Quinn reasoned, pulling her towards her.

Rachel was caught off guard, "Fives?" she murmured.

"I don't want anything for Christmas this year, more than I want this…"

Rachel was staring at her, her arms gripping Quinn's shoulders, trying so desperately to keep balance, because the look Quinn as giving her was making her head spin.

"Want what…?"

Quinn smirked slightly, "Smalls," she whispered, "I think you already know…"

Quinn leant towards her gently, pressing her lips against Rachel's; she felt her smile in the process.

Kissing Rachel was like pressing your lips to hot chocolate, it was so sweet and warm it was any wonder Quinn didn't pass out.

"You taste like cherries," Rachel whispered between Quinn's lips.

Quinn wanted inside. She needed to taste her.

Gently, she pulled Rachel behind one of the pine trees; it was covered in so much frost it looked like someone had tipped a huge bucket of icing sugar over it.

"Quinn," Rachel giggled, half tripping in the snow.

"I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," Quinn murmured staring at her.

Rachel responded by capturing her lips all over again. Quinn melted as she felt Rachel slip her tongue inside her mouth, running cautiously over the walls of her teeth. It was like learning to play piano keys for the first time, careful touches, and careful beats, just to feel the music between them.

Amongst all of this, Quinn wanted to literally rip her clothes off. She pulled away for a moment, breathless.

"You can't stop kissing me," Rachel demanded, "It's not an option,"

"God smalls," Quinn smirked, and she immediately pushed her tongue back inside Rachel's mouth. Soon kissing became much more than a want, it became a need, and suddenly Quinn was clawing her fingers against Rachel's thighs. She may as well have ripped holes in her stockings.

At the same time, Rachel was fumbling with the polyester of Quinn's jersey.

"Thank god its winter," she breathed, "Because you kill me when you wear those skirts,"

In an instant she felt Rachel's hand slide up her shirt, trailing up her torso towards the middle of her chest. Even if it was minus something degrees out, Quinn literally felt on fire.

"Don't stop," she muttered gripping the back of Rachel's head, her hands became too far lost in her hair.

Rachel's palm was edging so much closer to where Quinn wanted it to be, she literally thought she was going to explode.

"Miss Berry? Miss Berry where are you? I have the fake indoor frost you were after…"

Quinn pulled away almost immediately, Rachel slipping through the pines. Mr McDonald rounded the corner, just as Rachel managed to straighten her clothing and Quinn stood to the side, crossing her legs sheepishly.

_Fucking_ flood gates had almost opened.

"You interrupted my _gay_," Rachel muttered annoyed.

"What?" he asked, holding out the _Frosty Flakes_.

"I said you made my _day_!" Rachel smiled.

Quinn rolled her eyes.


	22. Chapter 21

Welp, little readers! You give me so many feelings with your reviews… generally you guys comment when I'm sleeping cause of the time difference (too weird ) so I actually wake up to your comments… they make my day!

So from the very depths of my little heart… thank you

As for the correct pronunciation of Azimio… haha you guys made me laugh, I didn't think anyone would say anything… I spent five minutes saying it out loud and now I'm stuck saying 'aussie mo' LOL it's the accent… I'm doomed ;)

ANYWAY… let the games begin… you think the first 20 chapters were angst… mmm little readers… its time for my favourite ride in the theme park… the ROLLERCOASTER!

Ha

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 21<strong>

High School, Junior Year

_Sometimes we might find our hearts in one place, and our minds in another_

* * *

><p>You know those memories, the ones that even if you've had the worst day in the world, you suddenly remember it, and it just makes everything better. Quinn was having one, and thank god, because failing her maths pop quiz meant her father was probably going to ground her. She had been nine and Frannie had been fifteen, and they had decided to spend the Christmas break training for the <em>Guinness Book of World Records<em>.

Frannie had been absolutely certain that there was no record for two sisters, standing on their heads upside down against their garage wall, until their faces turned blue and all they saw were those swirly colours as soon as you closed your eyes. They had both been stock skinny, like spiders legs crawling up the wall and pressing firmly to contain their balance. All the ballet lessons that year had made their posture immaculate and their figures chiselled. It was almost like defying gravity, if you didn't count the fact their heads were throbbing, because they'd forgotten to lay something down against the cement of their garage floor.

They had balanced in silence for a few moments.

"It would be so much easier if my head was flatter," Frannie had said annoyed.

"Do you think someone will come and time us with a stopwatch? Do you think we will get on TV?" Quinn had asked, because she still had that childish excitement.

Frannie had managed a shrug, "Dunno, guess we'll send in the video tape and see if we can get famous,"

"Frannie," Quinn had said, "Do you ever think we won't be friends?"

Frannie had rolled her eyes, "This is a stupid conversation Quinn, we're sisters, friendship is a given,"

"No its not," she had replied, "Tina said her sister moved out like two years ago, and now she never talks to her,"

"Well everyone's different Quinn,"

"Yes but what if I did something that made you angry, like that one time I borrowed your lipstick,"

Frannie growled, "I'm not mad about that anymore I told you,"

"Yes but what if you got really mad at me one day and never spoke to me again,"

Frannie had flipped herself sunny side up, rubbing her head in the process, _damn now they had to start all over again_.

"Quinn, if there is ever a time that I get mad at you, and stay mad at you, I want you to remember back to this day, and remember what I said, that you are my sister and my friend and I hereby declare to never stay mad at you for more than…" she paused "two years…"

"Why two years…"

"Well it usually takes two years to learn how to talk, and your first word was Frannie, so obviously that has to count for something right?"

A twitchy grin had spread across Quinn's face, "I agree,"

Now a year or so after Frannie had moved and hadn't spoken a word, Quinn was thinking back to that memory. Thinking back and smiling, because that was exactly what she was going to remind her sister of. Those two young girls in their garage basement, standing on their heads, creating dizzy theories about how sisters should always remain friends.

Quinn watched the juice dribble down the side of the orange as she tried to peel the layers off. Gritting her teeth she was focusing so hard on the piece of fruit she didn't realise the figure approaching her.

"Geared up for Cheerio's nationals Q?"

Quinn snapped her eyes from the orange to see Karofsky leaning on the book aisle beside her. She glared at him, one of her typical; _'and you think you should be talking to me'_ looks.

"I said I'd keep your secret Karofsky, I didn't say we'd be friends,"

He shrugged lightly, "Just making conversation Q, no need to bite my head off,"

She sighed, closing her eyes briefly, "Sorry, rough day,"

Karofsky pulled up a chair and sat down beside her, glancing at the piles of sheets and text books on her desk. It was cold out today; the snow had fallen like a blanket across the football field, which meant Cheerio's practise had been held in the gym, which consequently also smelt like feet. Now, her study free had left her alone in the library because Rachel had decided to organise a debate team meeting.

"How's Rachel?"

Quinn bit her lip; she wasn't so sure she felt comfortable talking to him, let alone discussing anything.

"She's great," Quinn responded.

"Great _outside_ of school though right?"

Quinn flared red, "Listen I'm not ready to say anything okay, it's one thing I love a girl, but an entirely separate issue that I love Rachel Berry,"

"Jesus Quinn," he said raising his eyebrows, "I get it okay," he paused, "_I get it_" and Quinn noticed his emphasis on his last sentence.

"When did you know?"

Karofsky shrugged, "It just happened I guess,"

Maybe there was a secret coded language developing between them, an understanding made between two people struggling with identities; Quinn wondered who else in the world shared the same type of language.

"Why are you afraid?" Quinn asked.

He raised his eyebrows in response, "Doesn't that question apply to you too?"

She bit her lip, he was so right it infuriated her.

"I don't want to live out the rest of my high school life on the other side; the loser side," he said.

Quinn glared at him, "So you figure you'll just tease the hell out of everyone else who doesn't fit your '_cool'_ category do you?"

Karofsky held up his hands in defence, "hey I promised I'd leave Rachel alone,"

Quinn shook her head, "Your shallowness is unbelievable,"

"It's not shallowness Q, it's fear, and it's written all over your face too,"

Quinn dug her finger into the orange watching the juice squirt out onto the desk, "Yes well, that's my fear to deal with I guess,"

"And mine is mine," he replied.

Quinn looked at him for a moment, studying his rugged face, his hardened eyes, his jaw line, his brown ruffled hair, he was everything you would expect of a football player, and now as she had peeled back _his layers_ she'd figured out that maybe all the expectations you have of people can change in a heartbeat.

Karofsky leant into his backpack and retrieved a container, he set it in front of Quinn, "you can have mine," he shrugged and it wasn't until Quinn looked closely did she realise he had just given her his own orange, although his were sliced and a napkin rested on the top.

By the time the bell had signalled, Quinn had written only a paragraph on her English paper. The rest of the time she had spent arguing with Dave about whether or not UFO's actually existed. Which was the most stupid topic to be on, and she had no idea how they had even reached it.

Now standing at her locker, she wanted to start beating her head against it, she had so much school work to do this afternoon, Christmas break was supposed to be just that, a break, only the workload had continued to pile and she figured she would have to sit out on Christmas all together. Quinn had no idea how she was meant to fit in Kurt's elaborate plan for '_The Glee Club costume search'_

"_Little B"_, he had said before school this morning, _"Costumes are everything,"_

"_So let Mr Schue deal with that"_

"_And have us turn into the marching Vests of Ohio?"_ he had responded.

Quinn had rolled her eyes, _"Okay, I'll come shopping with you after school,"_

Opening her locker, she paused a moment as a piece of paper fell onto the floor, students filed around her, changing textbooks and heading to their next class, but Quinn lingered back, when she noticed the handwriting across the paper.

Smiling she opened it.

_Fives,_

_I'm sorry I left you alone for study today. It's just Jacob is on the debate team, and he is an absolute headache, and I have to be really careful to be nice to him or he said he was going to Photoshop my head on porn stars and email it out to the school. Public humiliation I can handle, knowing my breasts are not as big as those women… not so much._

Quinn laughed out loud.

_Anyway I just wanted to tell you, that you look really pretty today, and I think you should sleep over on Friday night…._

Quinn stilled before she read the last line.

_But not to do anything other than sleep!_

_Smalls_

Her shoulders relaxed a little, thank god, she wasn't ready.

Damn.

**. . .**

"Guys calm down!" Mr Schuester called and Finn stopped banging on the drums, "I understand this is the last day until the break for Christmas, but can I remind you that Nationals will be in a few months and I need permission slips signed to go to New York!"

Rachel clapped her hands, "Mr Schuester I've already had both my Dad's sign mine, as well as developed a detailed itinerary for the ultimate Broadway experience,"

Quinn bit her lip; you know it's funny how people change when you get to know them. Suddenly all the traits you thought they possessed turn into the ones that you can see clearly. Instead of someone being overly annoying or patronising, someone just becomes organised, adorable, creative.

Mr Schuester laughed, "Rachel have you ever been to New York?"

Rachel flushed, "No but I've used most of my hard drive space on my computer downloading everything and anything that is New York"

"Are we sleeping in the same rooms as the girls?" Puck asked.

Mr Schuester raised his eyebrows, "Absolutely not,"

"Thank you Mr Schuester," Mercedes said and she poked her tongue out at him.

"With the exception of myself," Kurt replied raising his hand.

Mr Schuester glanced at him, "Kurt, as a male, by policy you have to stay in the room with the boys,"

"Mr Schuester!" he demanded, "They don't understand my nightly beauty regime, at our freshman camp, Puck ate all my cucumber facial masks!"

Quinn snorted, "You've got to be kidding me,"

"What?" Puck shrugged, "I was hungry!"

"You're always hungry," Finn said, still sitting behind the drums, Quinn could tell he just wanted to keep playing.

He'd been really quiet these past few weeks, and she couldn't tell whether it was just the change in the weather, or if he was nervous about football championships, or if he was up to something.

"Guys stop arguing," Mr Schuester said, "We still have a few months yet, just have Christmas and a break with your families and be ready to come back to school refreshed and in the game,"

Quinn glanced at Rachel briefly, she wanted to spend the break with her, but then what would she tell everyone else when they called or messaged her.

'_Oh I'm with Rachel, yes, Rachel Berry'_

She could already see the confusion brewing.

Although Santana had mentioned how nice she was being to her.

"_So you're not insulting Rachel as much lately Q," _she had said the other day, as they both had stood watching Brittany do the splits.

Quinn had brushed it off, _"I'm working on being a nicer person,"_

Santana had narrowed her eyes at her, _"Sure"_ she had murmured and then her eyes had gone dark, _"Just quietly though, if I had of had the chance, I would have bitch slapped Azimio,"_

Quinn had stilled, _"How do you…"_

"_I'm Santana Lopez Quinn, I hear everything, just don't tell Britt, she really likes Rachel…"_

The bell interrupted Quinn's flashback,

"Remember guy's permission slips! All of yours!" Mr Schuester called as they bounded up from the chairs, "Minus Rachel!" he added.

**. . .**

"Kurt can I ask why we're shopping for nationals costumes when it's not for ages,"

"Because preparation is important," he responded, holding up a sequined leotard.

"No," Quinn said eying it.

Kurt huffed, before moving onto the next row of clothes.

_Madame Cinders Costumes and Accessories_ was located just on the outskirts of town, it was only a short drive from Kurt's house, but even so watching him attempt to drive his Dad's truck through the sleeted roads had not been a very enjoyable experience.

Her phone sounded in her pocket and she stopped staring at a leopard print jacket to retrieve the message.

_Smalls:_

**Did you get my letter?**

Quinn smiled slightly, god just reading anything Rachel wrote to her made her heart beat.

I did, it was cute

**And… will you sleep over on Friday night?**

As long as it's not Christmas Eve then that's fine… how was the debate meeting?

**Stupid. Jacob threw his sandwich at me.**

Next time I see him I'm stuffing him in a box!

**He'll spray you with pepper spray fives, he uses it for deodorant**

Quinn crinkled her nose slightly, that kid was so unusual she thought he needed to be in a circus.

**I miss you**

Quinn smiled

I miss you too, you're so organised with your permission slip ;)

**Only because it's New York**

What Broadway do you want to see when we get there?

**You'd come to the Broadway with me?**

Of course. But first I want to take you on a date… A real one…

"Quinn!"

Quinn jumped slightly as feathers were sprayed in her face, "Can you stop being so anti-social with me? Who are you talking to?"

"Um no one," she stammered.

"That's not no one, you've been glued to your phone for the past fifteen minutes, I was just about ready to do a rendition from a scene in the aristocrats until I noticed you weren't paying attention to me!"

Quinn smirked at him, he really did look like one of those little cat cartoons.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"Well?" he demanded, "Who are you talking to?"

Quinn stared at him, she couldn't lie, it wasn't fair, Kurt was her best friend, he'd seen her at her best and her worst.

"Rachel," she breathed.

Kurt's eyes brows shot up so high they got lost amongst his frizzled hair.

"Come again?"

"Berry," Quinn said again, "As in Rachel Berry,"

"No as in Halle Berry," he responded sarcastically, "I know who, Quinn, but I would like to know why?"

Quinn shrugged, "She's just helping me with the English assignment,"

Kurt didn't seem convinced, but he dropped it when the store owner came back carrying a bag full of shiny metallic jumpsuits.

Quinn sighed, how had she'd just managed to tell the truth and lie at the same time?

Her phone sounded again.

**I want to go on a date with you too. But right now you're meant to be shopping with Kurt. Stop talking to me :)**

Quinn felt her lips break into a smile, god almighty _she just knows_.

* * *

><p><em>Two days on<em>

When you're young, you are given your own language. It's not like French or Spanish or whatever language starts getting taught to you in middle school, it's a language that you're born with, and eventually outgrow. Everyone under the age of twelve is completely fluent in _whatifspeak_. So generally, if you find yourself hanging around parks or anyone under four feet tall, you might just be able to pick up on the language again.

What if you were bitten by a snake and the only antidote was kept in Narnia? What if the moon exploded and a piece of it fell in your backyard? What if you could write your own answers to homework and then they would turn into the right answers before the teacher graded them? What if you could do 3000 star jumps in the blink of an eye?

It'll never really matter the lengths in which the _whatifs_ go to, the very point is that children possess brains with a wide scaled knowledge of possibility. As a child your brain is completely open, and then as you grow older it's almost like someone is sewing your mind closed, to all the things you boil down to _fact_.

Where'd the imagination go? How do you find it again?

Quinn stared at her _pawn_, not knowing where in the world to move it because she had already failed her other two. She instead decided to ask her grandfather the question that had been on her mind nearly all day.

"Pop, are you coming to Greece in the summer?"

In winter time, chess games were usually played in her grandfather's kitchen, near the boiler, with the heater next to them, and their slippers their customary uniform.

"Quinnie," he said eyeing her over the chess board, "This old ticker wouldn't be able to take a flight to Greece. Maybe Frannie and Spyros will bring the baby for a visit before I buy a ticket to my grave you know?"

Quinn stilled, "Pop, I hate it when you talk about that,"

"Talk about what Quinnie?"

"You know what," she said and she could already feel her cheeks flaming red.

"You mean death?"

Quinn shuddered, "Yes, don't talk about it, I hate it"

Her grandfather stopped eyeing off his King to look at her, "Quinnie," he reasoned, "Death is never something you should be afraid of…"

"But it means leaving earth,"

Her grandfather brought his knuckles under his chin and rested them there, "Quinn we're all born to die, there's nothing we can do to change that,"

"I know," she shrugged, "I just don't like to think about it,"

Her grandfather tilted his head, "You know Quinnie, the sooner you realise that all things change, the sooner you'll realise to let yourself go a bit,"

Quinn stared at him.

"And," he continued, "The sooner that you're not afraid of dying, well, then there's nothing you cannot achieve,"

Before Quinn could respond, her phone sounded on the table next to them, causing her grandfather to jump.

"Heaven help these damn little devices, you're all connected by your phone bills," he muttered.

Quinn smirked and slid open the message.

Smalls:

**I spoke to my pillow, it's really tired of pretending to be you, it says it wants to meet you tonight,**

'_Way to make me melt Rachel' _she thought.

"Pop," Quinn asked, "Say yes or no,"

This was the art of probability and possibility wasn't it? Fifty, fifty chance, either yes or no, take it or leave it.

"Yes," her grandfather answered without looking up from the board and Quinn felt the smile break out over her face.

**. . .**

Rachel pushed Quinn's hand away from where it had been slowly grazing the material of her t-shirt, wanting to slip underneath, so she could feel Rachel's burning skin.

Quinn stopped kissing her immediately.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

"Nothing," Rachel stammered, and she leant up to Quinn to continue toying with her lips.

Quinn held back, "Smalls you pushed my hand away,"

Rachel bit her lip, "Because I don't want…"

Quinn hung her head slightly, so it rested on Rachel's shoulder, before she rolled off her, and fell into the sheets beside her.

"Why didn't you tell me you were scared about…" Quinn paused, not sure what word to use, "exploring…" she decided.

Rachel huffed, rising on her elbow, so she could look at her, "It's not that Quinn," she said, "It's just…" but she trailed off shyly, avoiding eye contact.

"Rachel!" Quinn said firmly, "Whatever you want to say I want you to tell me immediately!"

Rachel closed her eyes briefly, "When I was six years old, I was running up the stairs, chasing Mr Bugsworth…"

Quinn accidently snorted with laughter and Rachel growled, "He was my first pet Quinn, don't mock the fact I had a pet bunny rabbit..."

"I'm sorry," she replied through small giggles, "Continue…"

Rachel rolled her eyes, "It was in the winter time, and my Daddy had his ice skates tucked on the stairs, and I tripped, and landed awkwardly…" she turned her nose up slightly, "and next thing I know I'm being rushed to the hospital with blood pouring out of me like the _Trevi Fountain_…"

Quinn eyes swept the entire length of her, as though Rachel was suddenly going to start falling apart at the seams.

"Lucky I was six, and don't really remember much, except that Daddy played Barbara the whole time I was recovering in hospital; but I have this…" again she paused nervously.

"This what?" Quinn urged.

"Scar…" Rachel managed.

Quinn frowned, glancing at Rachel's stomach, as it lay underneath her _Aerosmith_ t-shirt.

"Show me," she demanded.

Rachel looked mortified, "No! Quinn it's horrible, it's this shiny snake like thing right above my hip bone…"

God just thinking about her hip bone made Quinn start to sweat.

"Rachel _show_ me," she repeated.

Rachel shook her head, "Finn never saw it, no one has seen it except my Dads and that's the way I like…."

Quinn kissed her abruptly; she overtook her lips, pulling at them, until Rachel was trying so hard to get back to breathing normally.

"But it's me…" Quinn whispered and instantly she felt Rachel crumble beneath her.

"What if you find me hideous?"

"That's impossible," Quinn murmured.

Rachel thought momentarily and Quinn knew she was having a mental war in her own mind about the whole entire situation. Her brow was creased, and the corners of her lips were twitching.

It made Quinn crazy.

Slowly, whether on purpose or not, Rachel slid her shirt up her torso, Quinn pressed her hand to her stomach immediately, and then she slipped down to inspect it.

It was a fine thin scar, like the ones that look like a running stitch sewn on the back of quilts. Quinn traced her finger across it, and instantly watched Rachel's skin break out in Goosebumps.

"Fives," she murmured.

The thing about scars; is they have no character. They aren't like skin, because they don't show illness or tan, or age. A scar has no pores, no wrinkles; it's like a slip cover in a sense. They mark maps on our bodies, of all the things we can be accounted for, and all the things we can't.

"Smalls," Quinn said, after she had finished inspecting it, "You're overdramatising…"

Rachel narrowed her eyes, her defensive expression taking charge, "I am no…."

Quinn smirked, pressing her finger to Rachel's lips, "You want to know my favourite thing about scars?"

"What," Rachel choked.

"They're an indication of the people who have healed,"

Quinn slid her hand between their press bodies, grazing Rachel's stomach, tracing the scar as though she had known it's exact diameter, and it's exact position on Rachel's body her whole life, all the while staring at her.

"Everyone has scars Smalls," she murmured, "Some are more visible than others, but that doesn't mean any one is more or less important than the other,"

Rachel responded by kissing her, she kissed Quinn so intently, it was any wonder Quinn's head didn't go spinning off into another dimension.

"Quinn," Rachel breathed.

"Mmmm?"

"I love you,"

Somewhere inside their bodies, just left of their lungs, sitting firmly in between two sheltered rib cages, two pairs of hearts had just started to beat faster; and ever so slowly, a thinly wrapped piece of _healing_ tissue was gliding its way across the scars that had already been left behind.


	23. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

High School, Junior Year

_If ever you find your life unbalanced, just look to the stars they'll guide you home_

* * *

><p>There was a movie made in the late eighties by two film directors who had a fascination with the sky. It was only a very simple movie, shot in hi-band with a camcorder. It began with the close up of a person, just an average person, someone like you and me, and then slowly it began to zoom away, it zoomed through the person's house, it zoomed through the person's street, through the person's town, through their city, their state, their country and then it stopped. It hovered above planet earth for a while, just silently watching. Then the camera kept going, it zoomed out past mars and then past the line of planets that followed, and it kept going, missing the asteroid belt, and zooming past a clutter of stars.<p>

The camera zoomed so far out, until the earth; our planet was a mere speck on a belt of darkness that seemed so incredibly endless.

Quinn had stumbled across the short movie the other week. She had been reading star signs after Kurt had rang her having a panic attack that his star sign predicted he was going to lose his voice. It wasn't until after Quinn had spent the majority of the night trying to prove him wrong, that Puck had messaged and admitted he had set it up and sent the email to Kurt as a joke.

Quinn had screamed.

That being said, she couldn't get the idea of the movie out of her head. There's so many people in this world, so many of us that live our lives out the best way we know how. But that's just it, we don't realise how tiny our world is compared to the rest of the universe. So maybe we shouldn't dwell so much on the things that we think will tip us over the richter scale, because when we're looking at the scale of the whole universe, well, we're all pretty far away aren't we.

Quinn felt something pull on her arm, and suddenly her eyes were glaring into the mid-morning sunlight, then a shadow, and Rachel was suddenly standing over her.

"Are you attempting to catch hypothermia?"

Quinn frowned, "What?"

"Fives, it is the middle of winter and you want to lie in the middle of the football field? I'm sorry I am not kissing you if you have the sniffles, you will ruin my perfect nasal composure…"

Quinn curled her leg around Rachel's, effectively bringing her down in a heap beside her. Rachel meanwhile had squealed in the process, falling into the grass and the snow beneath them.

There was a perfectly good explanation as to why Quinn had elected to spend her study period lying in the snow. But Rachel looked so adorable in her sweater and beanie right now she couldn't find the words to explain.

"Maybe I was waiting for my own personal heater," she whispered, kissing her cheek, it was cold from the fresh air.

Rachel rolled her eyes, "I run on the energy of my talent thank you very much,"

"I run on the energy of you," Quinn grinned, grabbing her sides, so Rachel would squirm.

"Quinn stop," Rachel said pretending to be annoyed, she crawled to her knees and looked down at Quinn.

"I heard what Jacob said to you,"

Quinn glanced at her, half sighing, "It was nothing Rachel, I'm a big girl, I can handle stupid comments,"

"I kicked him off the debate team,"

Quinn laughed, "Seriously?"

"Yes!" she replied defensively, "He was messing with my gir…." Rachel stopped herself automatically, "He shouldn't have made a comment like that,"

Quinn shrugged, "It's Alcohol Awareness week Rachel, I was expecting half the school to bring up last year,"

"But that was last year Quinn; you're a different person,"

"I'm still the same person struggling with what I want," she responded, digging her hands into the snow beneath her, she had always loved the feel of snow, it was like cold cotton candy in your fingers, that melted away from the warmth of your skin.

Rachel had gone really quiet all of a sudden, causing Quinn to sit up suddenly.

"Oh god," she muttered, "No baby, not you, I'm not struggling with wanting you,"

Rachel's eyes had that glint back in them, "That's twice," she murmured.

Quinn tilted her head, "Twice for what?"

"You've called me baby twice now," she said, "The first time was when you found me…" she twitched slightly, "found me in the boys locker rooms, and this is the second time…"

_God almighty_

Quinn grasped a handful of Rachel's sweater in her fist and tugged on it, bringing Rachel directly into her lips.

"Fives…" Rachel muttered through Quinn's kisses, "Public space, public space, public space!"

"Smalls," Quinn replied, irritated that she was pulling away, "I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!"

Rachel placed both hands on Quinn's chest, as a barrier between them, "But if you didn't care, you would have made me your girlfriend already,"

"You pretty much are when you have both your hands on my breasts,"

Rachel flushed and pulled them away immediately, "Well then I'll just go announce it on the PA?"

Quinn grumbled, "Why are you so…."

"Irresistible?"

"I was thinking annoying,"

Rachel bit her lip, "You said slow Quinn, you said slow and when the time is right, well we would somehow figure out how to tell people. But you can't change your mind every few days; my heart can't handle that…"

Neither could Quinn's.

"So go on a date with me," she said, standing up and pulling Rachel to her feet.

"I already said I would, you're the one who is supposed to be planning it,"

"Rachel," Quinn responded, "I asked you to write me a list of all the things you could possibly want to do and you haven't delivered it to me,"

"Because you already know me Quinn, those letters were me, they're still me…"

"So you're asking me to plan an amazing first date based on the sheer ink you've written on pages that are stored in a box under my bed,"

Rachel raised her eyebrows, "Why are they under your bed, they should be on a shrine…"

"RACHEL!"

"QUINN!"

Quinn smirked, "I want to kiss you again,"

"Well I just want to be around you Fives. You could take me to a retirement home and tell me we had to sit watching old people getting sponge baths all day and I would still love it, because I would be with you,"

Quinn grinned a little, only because her grandfather was always harping about how jealous he was of his friend Albert living in _Lima's Retirement Village_.

"Albert gets sponge baths by the pretty nurses twice a day!" he had said over the Christmas break; while, Quinn, her mother and her father were trying to eat the rest of the Christmas ham.

"Dad," Judy had grimaced, "Can you not discuss that while we're eating,"

"Well its only ham love," he replied, "It's not like I'd be discussing this over hotdog sausages, if you get my drift,"

Judy had spilt her wine, Quinn's father had nearly fallen off his chair and Quinn had started choking she was laughing so hard.

"I'll plan something," she promised, "Just put Jacob back on the debate team,"

"No," Rachel replied folding her arms, her bottom lips were shivering, and it made Quinn notice the sun had disappeared.

"Smalls, he doesn't really have much else other than his involvement in those things,"

"Well he should have thought about that before he was rude,"

"People make mistakes…" Quinn reasoned.

"Yes Quinn but…" and Rachel stopped talking when she realised what Quinn was getting at,

"Fine," she replied, "But only if you promise that we can stay five extra minutes in your car this afternoon?"

"Why?"

"I've researched a new kissing technique…"

Before Quinn could ask her how the hell she was now supposed to now sit away from her in Glee Club, the bell had signalled, and students were pouring out into the open spaces around them.

**. . .**

About three years ago, McKinley High introduced a day specifically targeted at Juniors and Seniors to give them a certain amount of relief from their school activities, and release some of the stress. For one day, classes ran as usual, however during those classes the students were allowed to spend the day in front of a screen, or with a notebook, or with iPod headphones in their ears, reading, writing or listening to anything that would calm them. One day and they could update their blogs, send some tweets, read some other blogs, listen to podcasts; go through YouTube videos and try to convince their teachers that yes, you really can ride a skateboard standing on your head; watch American idol, laugh at Ryan Seacrest or spend the lessons glued to the football scores.

Just one day to breathe.

Quinn was sitting in maths. This was the first and only day this year that she would be allowed to sit in this classroom writing in her notebook words, rather than numbers. Mike was playing _angry birds_. Although from memory, Puck had wiped his high score and now he was trying to get it back again, so maybe Mike was just _always _playing angry birds.

Quinn didn't know where to take Rachel. She wanted it to be perfect, be somewhere that would just make Rachel weak in the knees.

Did she have to plan it?

Was it one of those things where she had to turn up at her house with flowers and chocolate and be all; _excuse me Mr and Mr Berry, I'm here to take your daughter on a date, yes I'm a girl, yes I'm Quinn Fabray who use to tease her last year and the years before that._

BANG. That would be the sound of the door shutting.

Only Leroy and Hiram liked Quinn already, Leroy and Hiram made her sit on the couch with them and watch _Walking with Dinosaurs_ because it was on the Discovery Channel a few days ago. She had meant to be helping Rachel with song choices, only Quinn had gotten so caught up in spending time with Rachel Dads that Rachel had just ended up writing a whole book report to give to Mr Schuester herself.

"It's okay," she had whispered outside, as Quinn got into her car, "They like you. I love that they like you,"

She had kissed Quinn for what had seemed like another five minutes, and Quinn hadn't wanted to pull out of the driveway.

Why was she so nervous? Why was she so scared of impressing Rachel, she was the same person in her letter's wasn't she. The same person who had seen Quinn pour her heart out when things had just been going completely downhill. Maybe it's about time people start realising that life's going to break you. There's not anyone in this world that can protect you from that. You can try to separate yourself from the world, but living alone won't stop life from breaking you. Living in solitude will break you with its yearning. People will teach you that you have love. You have to feel. We're born into this world to live our lives on earth, to risk our hearts, to be swallowed by darkness and spat back up again when we've realised we've won. When life breaks us, we're going to feel as though we're broken, betrayed or left hurting beyond repair. But we should always remember that happiness sometimes catches us when we're not ready, happiness catches us, and pulls us back up again.

Rachel kept catching Quinn, and pulling her back into the light.

Quinn's phone vibrated in her pocket and she leant down to retrieve it.

Britts:

_Mr Schue is letting us sing Kesha!_

Then another message,

San:

_My girl is getting dressed as Kesha… have you got eye patches? I can't watch, it'll turn me on too much…_

Quinn's phone continued to buzz,

Kurt:

_Please save me! Juliet and Juliet are driving me crazy with the footsie games under the desk!_

Quinn was trying so hard to keep her laughter from taking over her body but the final message just sealed the deal.

Cedes:

_I suggested we tip Kurt upside down and shake him over Brittany, to get the glitter effect for Kesha… Houston we have a DIVA FIT!_

Quinn had to physically remove herself from the classroom, what she would give to be witnessing all that going on right now.

* * *

><p><em>End of the week<em>

There are so many different ideas on what age you should be when you have your first drink. There are so many different scenarios that have been brought to life, so many debates, so many people thinking one way, and other people thinking another way. Maybe instead of trying to prevent it from happening, people should realise that it will continue to happen, and instead of trying to ban it all together, people should be trying to think of ways on how to make the situation more controlled.

McKinley High had held Alcohol Awareness week from Monday until Friday, the entire week had been dedicated to creating awareness for underage drinking. Mr Schuester had dedicated the week's Glee lessons of singing alcohol related songs. At first his message wasn't all that clear, but then like always, everyone eventually understood where he was coming from.

Which is why when Quinn showed up with Santana and Brittany to Puck's house, she wasn't surprised that half of her friends weren't drinking. Tonight Puck's parents had placed large tall gas heaters around the yard, they looked like these tall pillars sticking out of the snow and throwing heat across the yard. A tarp had been tied from the back porch to one of the trees in the back corner to trap the heat in. You could still feel the slight cool air, but for the most of it, Pucks backyard had almost been transformed into a cosy little cave.

"I gotta protect my liver," Artie said as they sat playing poker in a circle.

Santana rolled her eyes, "You're liver's still young Artz, would you relax,"

"He's right San," Tina replied, "Mrs Cullen made us watch some documentary on liver failure due to alcohol in Health Ed, and Susan Hinders literally vomited in the classroom,"

"That's disgusting," Santana replied cringing.

"So is liver failure," Artie shrugged.

Quinn was staring at Rachel, sitting on the steps of Puck's porch laughing at something with Kurt, she just literally wanted to march over there and drag Rachel into her lap. Watching Santana and Brittany be so free and comfortable around everyone made her so crazy she couldn't stand it sometimes. But she didn't know how everyone would react. These were her friends though; they understood how some things came about?

About how things change and feelings develop and sometimes you just can't help who you fall in love with.

But what about the rest of the school; the rest of the world?

What would they say about it all?

There are three types of people in this world.

There are coasters; those are people who drift through life, living on surface material. They like whatever fits the current scene or trend, and they're mostly happy because they're oblivious to what the world really represents.

Then there's the next step up, the benchers; those are people who understand certain topics, formulate a half opinion, but remain perched on the fence, because they're either too afraid, or in too much denial to actually pick a side.

Then there are observers. They're people who wait and watch and then speak and talk. They think and they analyse and they try to make sense of a universe that seems so big compared to their own lives. It's so rare to find people who will stop and stare at a small poppy flower sitting amongst a bed of roses and wonder how on earth it came to be there.

Whatever type of person someone is, it shouldn't really matter.

If you're an observer sitting amongst a group of coasters or benchers, don't take out your frustrations on them, they can't help how they see the world. Just wait a little while, eventually you'll find another observer, they'll probably tell you that shooting stars are really just the sky's way of sending a piece of itself to you.

Quinn needed a shooting star right now, she needed to have it crash into her and tell her what to do.

**. . .**

"You're tonight quiet white girl,"

Quinn stopped swirling the lemonade in her glass to look at Mercedes as she sat down beside her.

She shrugged in response, "It's late,"

Mercedes laughed, "It's not even 9pm?"

This was true. But since 8pm Rachel had been sitting in the corner of Pucks garden next to Finn, having a really deep conversation that Quinn so desperately wanted to listen in on.

"You okay Q?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

"I'll be fine," she smiled.

_Once I get over this insane jealousy that just about ready to burst out of my body._

"Well if your heads going to be out of the sky this weekend, I'm taking Santana and Brittany to the old dance studio up in Cleveland, bit of a drive, but I figure Britts can get her thang on and it'll be a break from the weather?"

"Cleveland had snow the other day Cedes,"

"Yeah but compared to Lima, it just looked like icing sugar! Just think on it!" she shrugged and Quinn nodded.

The moment she saw Rachel leave Finn and walked south towards the side fence, she made up some excuse about needing to make sure she'd turned her car lights off, she left a confused Mercedes and took off after Rachel.

"Smalls," she whispered, catching the gate before it had closed.

Rachel turned slightly; she had tears sliding down her face.

"What's wrong?" Quinn demanded.

Rachel bit her lip, "Kiss me," she murmured through tears.

Short of wanting to know what had happened, Quinn just obliged anyway, because she had been so desperate for those small pink lips all night it was any wonder she had survived this long. Quinn pulled lightly on Rachel bottom lip before pressing their foreheads together,

"Baby, tell me what's wrong,"

"Three," Rachel smirked, as the light from the telegraph pole above them shone over her face.

"Baby," Quinn whispered again, "Baby, baby, baby,"

Rachel took over Quinn's lips again, sliding her hand up towards her neck, to pull her closer.

Quinn broke them apart, "No," she said lightly, "Not until you tell me why you have these," Quinn drew her finger across Rachel's eye, outlining its shape and in effect wiping away the tears that had formed.

"Finn told me he still loves me,"

Quinn stilled, she knew he had been heartbroken, but she didn't think he was still holding on.

"He said he was going to search for the person who stole my heart and get his revenge,"

Quinn inhaled deeply, "Well how can he find me, if I'm not here,"

Rachel frowned, "I don't understand,"

"Come with me," she whispered.

"Where?"

"The South Side of Anywhere," Quinn replied, kissing Rachel's nose.

Rachel slipped her arms around Quinn's waist, drawing their bodies together, so much so they were almost sinking inside each other.

"Fives, knowing you that could be anywhere and everywhere," she responded, and she brushed a piece of Quinn's hair from her cheek, "Wherever you feel free right?"

"Exactly," Quinn replied, "So come with me,"

"But what about…"

"I don't care right now," Quinn murmured, "I want to take you on our first date,"

Rachel stilled, "Now?"

"Now baby," Quinn whispered.

**. . .**

Do you believe in the constellations? Do you believe in the stories that go along with them?

Did you know that there are over hundreds of different possible stories for different constellations across the world, because the night sky looks a little different depending on where you're located in the world?

When Quinn's grandmother had died, she had asked her grandfather if he still believed in God.

"Quinnie, that is such a grown up thing to ask," he had said, but she had wanted to know all the same.

"Yes, I do," he had replied, "but can I tell you a secret?"

Even though she had been so young, she will never forget what her grandfather had told her, she would never forget because that was the first day her head disappeared into the sky.

It disappeared without any intention of returning.

"I also believe we come from the stars," he had whispered.

"But Pop," she had asked, "I don't look like a star,"

"But you _are_ one Quinnie," he had whispered, "We're all fragments of stars that have exploded and shattered down to earth,"

"If I'm a star Grandad, does that mean you're one too?"

"We're all stars Quinnie,"

Quinn had pulled the vehicle just off centre to the _Lima Astrology Observatory_, and pulled Rachel under the small gap in the fence; she had been rambling about security cameras and break and entering the entire time.

"Be quiet," Quinn whispered, as they walked through the patches of snow towards the hill that overlooked the rest of the town.

"I don't understand why there's not much snow here," Rachel said.

"It's the heat from the generators," Quinn responded, "It melts the snow away,"

For thousands of years, astronomers had argued and wrestled with each other over basic questions and answers on the size, shape and age of the universe. They wanted to know if the universe went on forever, or if somewhere there was an edge, or a drop, and if there was a drop, where did that drop go?

The ancient Greeks developed plans to suggest that it was extremely difficult to imagine what an infinite universe could look like. They wondered if the universe was finite or infinite, that if you stuck you hand over the edge, would it disappear?

When _Isaac Newton_ discovered the law of gravity, he realised that gravity was always attractive. That every object in the universe attracts another object, and if the universe was finite, well then all the objects should have caused it to collapse in on itself. Isaac Newton presented the very possibility that the universe _really was_ infinite, it went on forever; and ever, and had no intention of stopping.

So maybe the question was never about how infinite the universe was, but about the possibility of someone defying gravity.

Quinn had come to the observatory on and off over the years. Sometimes she would park her car and sit on top of the hill for hours, and other times, she would just come to watch the odd photographer trying to catch a shooting star. Whatever her reasons, she knew that the sky was changing.

There's a theory called the '_expanding universe_' which reasons that based on the maps recorded and the constellations mapped out from thousands of years ago, the night sky that many of us see now, has changed, and it's continuing to change.

This is because stars are not static points in the sky, they move over time, which means the _constellations _are shifting too. One hundred years ago, the _Zodiac Calender_ tracked time by the stars, this was called sidereal time, the days were always shorter by four minutes, and now the Calender has shifted certain constellations.

So what's the whole reason for the off balance?

For the shifts and the changes that have come about today?

Well it's all based on the earth's axis. The earth we live on wobbles, it's not exactly centred.

That tells us something about life doesn't it.

That life isn't stable; it surprises us; it's constantly shifting.

Thank god Quinn had brought the blanket with her, because while their parkers had felt too hot at Pucks, they were not nearly warm enough for the hill.

Quinn sat down on a snow free patch of grass, watching as Rachel moved beside her and slipped the blanket around her shoulders. She sat down beside Quinn.

"Don't," Quinn whispered.

She frowned at her through the dark, "Don't what?"

"Don't sit there,"

Rachel seemed to glance down at herself and then around them as though she had sat on Quinn's imaginary friend.

"Don't sit there," Quinn murmured, "Because it's not close enough,"

Quinn moved behind her, spread her legs on either side of Rachel's body; and hugged into her, resting her chin on her shoulder as Rachel leant back into her.

"I like being close to you," she whispered in her ear, and she felt Rachel tremble.

"Fives,"

"Mmmmm?"

"I think Santana knows something, she keeps giving me these looks, and tonight in the bathroom she asked if I liked what you were wearing,"

Quinn smiled into Rachel's hair, "She probably does,"

Santana was like that. She just always knew.

"Well why hasn't she said anything?"

"She's probably waiting for me to tell her myself,"

"Yes but what if…"

"Smalls," Quinn said slightly shaking her, "Can you just be here with me?"

Rachel seemed to relax slightly, "This is really romantic," she agreed.

"Is that all I get?" Quinn asked, "I bring you to a space observatory to look at the stars Rachel, because they're you favourite thing in the world, and I just get romantic?"

Rachel tilted her head and kissed Quinn's cheek, "This is the best first date ever,"

Quinn smiled slightly, "mmm better, might need something extra,"

Rachel smirked, before pulling Quinn's legs tighter around her and kissing her properly. When Rachel kissed her, she played a game, to see how long Quinn could handle Rachel's lips without her tongue inside her mouth.

Quinn always lost.

"Tell me a story," Rachel said pulling away.

"The only story I can think of involves a girl called Quinn and a girl called Rachel, sitting on a hill, kissing for the rest of their lives," she replied, attempting to take those lips again.

"Quinn!"

Quinn huffed slightly, glancing out over the hill. It was so beautiful here. You could see all of Lima down below. The lights seemed to blink up like treasure amongst a chested town, as though they were trying to guide your thoughts home.

"Talk to me about the stars," Rachel said again, and she pressed harder against her.

"Have you heard about the work going on at the _Herschel Space Observatory_?" Quinn asked, and Rachel shook her head.

"Well, it captures a stellar nursery, at least 1000 light years away, in a constellation called Aquila,"

"_The Eagle_!" Rachel quipped and Quinn stared at her, "Too much discovery channel" Rachel whispered in response to her raised eyebrows.

"Yes _the eagle_," Quinn smiled, "The cloud is sixty five light years across and is covered in so much dust that no infrared satellite has ever been able to see it, until now…"

Rachel grinned slightly, "Fives you're so smart,"

"Shhh!" Quinn smirked, "Because of Herschel, astronomers have been able to take their first pictures inside _The Eagle_ and they've been able to see at least 700 condensations of dust and gas that are eventually going to become stars,"

"So new stars are going to be born?" Rachel asked.

"Yes," Quinn whispered, she was already too lost staring at the star she was currently holding.

"Fives," Rachel said, "Do you think people are a lot like stars?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well we all just want to shine don't we, what happens if we don't shine the right way?"

Quinn shifted Rachel's scarf, and placed kisses to her neck, immersing herself in the heat radiating from Rachel's skin.

"Rachel, there are blue stars, there are red stars, there are white stars and orange stars, and they all shine at different intervals…"

"Yes but what if…"

"They still shine Rachel…. all stars shine,"

"What makes you shine?" Rachel asked softly and she curled her fingers into Quinn's hand.

Quinn smiled against her, "You," she whispered.

* * *

><p>There will come a time in your life, when you're not sure of how to formulate the right words you want to say. You could sit for hours next to someone and try to explain what you want, but the words will just come out a mess. Don't be too alarmed, it just means that the time wasn't right.<p>

Quinn had thought about telling Santana the truth the entire time they had been sitting on her grandfather's front porch.

"I can't actually believe I agreed to give up watching Sweet Valley with Britts in _bed_, to help you shovel your grandfather's driveway," Santana said, sipping the hot chocolate back and watching as the steam leaked out into the air.

"But we made snow angels?" Quinn replied defensively, "And this is helping your good deeds San, you're helping to shovel an elderly man's driveway free of snow,"

"Britts aint gonna let me do anything with blisters on my _fingers_ now is she!"

Quinn nearly choked on her tea.

"Querida!" her grandfather called from inside, "Do you want pop tarts?"

Santana grinned into her mug, "Now if I was straight, I'd be moving in with old Arthur back there, he's down with my lingo, and knows what to put in my belly,"

Quinn made a face, "Santana, that's my grandfather,"

"I'm kidding!" Santana urged, "God Q, you're always on edge lately, where did the humour go hey?"

Quinn sighed, "I'm sorry,"

"You coming to Cleveland tomorrow?" she asked, swirling the hot chocolate slightly.

_Can I bring Rachel?_

"I'm not sure yet," she replied, "I don't know whether I have plans,"

Santana snorted, "With who?" she asked, "Kurt's going to his aunts fiftieth in…" Santana paused, "in I don't even know; and me and Britts will be in Cleveland with Cedes, who could you possibly…"

Quinn bit her lip; she didn't know how to answer.

Santana trailed off, allowing a moment of silence to settle between them, before she stared at her "I'm about to be real with you Q, the realest I've ever been with you in my whole life, so don't…" she bit her lip, "Don't laugh at me…"

Quinn smirked, "San I could ne…"

Santana held up her hand to silence her, and oddly, Quinn agreed to shut her mouth.

"There just comes a point in your life, a point that you will never know of until it hits, that you just end up loving someone. You might not be together forever, I mean maybe you'll hope to be, it might mean that you do, it might mean that you don't, but you'll love them anyway,"

Quinn felt a lump catch in her throat, as Santana pressed on.

"I guess what I'm trying to say Q is that you'll love someone whether they do good things or bad things, you'll love them even if you hurt each other. You'll just love that person in spite of all their flaws and everything they are, and then you'll also love them, because they love you in spite of all of yours, and everything you are,"

Santana looked at her, "and the most important thing Quinn, is you'll love a person, you'll love a person no matter what race, gender or outlook on life. You'll just love _a person_…"

Santana knew. She might not have literally known, she might be denying it in her own mind, but something was ticking away, and whether or not she had pinned Quinn's person as Rachel; Quinn didn't know, but she didn't do anything other than pull Santana into a hug.

Maybe people know you, better than you think they do.


	24. Chapter 23

Little Readers!

HUGE apologies about my spelling in some instances (although I think we do have different ways of spelling certain things… so that might be why) I'm trying to keep an eye on it, but it's just I always finish the chapter and upload things at 3AM- just cause I know it's the time most of you click in and check updates, hence while you're all morning glory… My little eyes are drooping :)

But thankyou to everyone who pulls me up on it, I need it!

Also you anonymous ones! GET OFF anon and come talk to me dammit! There's been a couple of you that I've read and gone… oh I want to talk to you… so let's play?

As always give me your thoughts/ideas/needs ;)

belikecourtney (twitter) … I cater to you!

Enjoy your day/night!

Court

p.s oh by the way, _The Eagle_ is actually real- for those of you who emailed asking.

I really love the sky haha and astrology is something that fascinates me (and yes I watch too much Discovery Channel) but honestly little readers, if you ever get the chance, check out your local Space Observatory, it will BLOW YOUR MIND!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 23<strong>

High School, Junior Year

_Rumours are crimes that leave no evidence. No weapons are needed, but the destruction is just as severe_

* * *

><p>Maybe when you love something, you just want to be surrounded by it. Like when someone loves science, you might find little diagrams and models displayed across their room. Or when someone likes a celebrity, a musician or a band, they'll have poster's lining their walls. Someone who likes sport has equipment everywhere; someone who likes art has wall hangings plastered like creative squares.<p>

The things we love surround us.

Quinn looked around her room, there were ancient and modern books scattered in her shelves, posters of _Jimmy Hendrix_ hung around the room, a vintage camera collection in her cupboard.

Do you think our interests define who we are? Or we define our interests?

Quinn's door was opened, causing her to look up from where she had been engrossed in _Jane Austin_.

Rachel was suddenly in her bedroom.

"Don't you have history study to be doing?" Quinn questioned, although she couldn't complain, this was the best thing about being able to drive, they could show up at each other's houses in the afternoon's or in the middle of the night, and spend hours just staring at each other and no one would be able to tell the difference.

Rachel huffed, crawling onto the bed next to Quinn, "I wrote the entire opening of my speech, only to realise I was using your name instead of Amelia Earhart," she grumbled.

Quinn laughed, "I don't know how you can get my name mixed up with hers Smalls,"

Rachel made a face, "She likes the sky, you like the sky, same damn thing. Get out of my head Fives,"

Quinn grinned, pulling her closer, "Never," she whispered.

Rachel smirked slightly, allowing Quinn to roll on top of her, pressing her lips to her neck.

"But your mother," Rachel protested.

"Is an avid fan of _Wheel of Fortune_, she won't move from the couch for the next hour…"

"You're father," Rachel tried, whimpering as Quinn playfully sunk her teeth into her collarbone.

"At work," Quinn muttered, she wanted to know what perfume Rachel was wearing, it reminded her of candy.

"But Fives, 85% of teenagers get caught making out by their parents!"

"Smalls!" Quinn said annoyed, "Just shut up and let me grope you!"

Rachel smirked, "There's laws against that you know…"

Quinn rolled her eyes, dragging her nails down Rachel arms before pinning them above her head and running her lips down Rachel's neck, Quinn could hear the purr at the back of Rachel's throat; it made her smile through kisses.

"Quinn," Rachel said, knotting her fingers through hers.

Quinn held herself lightly above Rachel, staring down at her. There was never a question of how long she could stare at Rachel.

God she could probably stare at her for the rest of her life.

"Every time you take my hand, I feel your whole life vibrating in mine…"

Quinn reacted by kissing her again, softly at first, slowly, like the way a song would start, but then Rachel tightened her grip on the back of Quinn's neck and pulled her closer.

Quinn felt Rachel beneath her, she felt her hip bone, the way it pressed into Quinn's, she felt the curve and the outline of Rachel's whole body, the spaces where Quinn fit, the places that felt like home. Tentatively, Quinn moved her hand down the whole length of Rachel's torso, gripping the edge of her t-shirt and pulling upwards, just so she could feel the burning sensation of Rachel's skin.

"Quinn," Rachel stammered between pulling at her lips, "Lower,"

A while ago, when all they had been doing was playing _'who can kiss the other longer without breathing'_ in the back of either of their cars, if Rachel had of said this, Quinn would have probably had a heart attack.

But it was different now, she wanted to fit everywhere with Rachel, she wanted all the rights to explore her body.

Quinn stared at her for a few minutes, gently stroking Rachel's cheek with her thumb, "are you sure?" she whispered.

"I want you," Rachel responded.

Quinn was so overcome with the scent of Rachel, she knew she was probably smiling like an idiot, but being this close to her, was like floating on water, you drift and you drift until your heart wants to explode.

Quinn pressed her lips to Rachel's again, parting them, so she could find Rachel's tongue with hers. Her whole body was tingling, like pins and needles had taken over all her limbs and had no intention of surrendering. Quinn trailed her hand over Rachel's stomach, tracing lazy circles around her belly button and then outlining her scar.

"I want everything about you, do you know that?" Quinn whispered.

Rachel was incoherent; she was drunk off Quinn's kisses and the electricity that seemed to be shooting out from the pads of her fingertips as they drew sketches across the canvas of her torso. Slowly Quinn moved over Rachel's ribcage, pressing her fingers in between the lines, pretending they were cross roads, just so she could feel the subtle rise and fall of Rachel's breaths between her ribs.

When you love someone, everything about them is heightened, Quinn could feel the small silky hairs on Rachel's body, she could feel her heart beating through her chest, she could hear the quiet noises their lips were making, as they danced. Quinn slipped one finger under the denim of Rachel's jeans, curling her finger and gingerly sliding down Rachel's zipper.

Rachel was already trembling.

In motions that Quinn was too busy playing with Rachel's lips to even register what her fingers were demanding, she had slipped past the elastic of Rachel's underwear and suddenly felt something she had never felt before.

She felt home.

She felt desire, need, want and familiarity.

Rachel gripped Quinn's neck, folding herself tighter against her, curling her legs on either side of Quinn's body.

Perhaps there's not a lot of difference between the human body, between girls and boys and boys and girls, maybe everyone has places that other people fit, places that are only ever meant for the person you love.

"God," Rachel murmured, pulling Quinn's lip with her teeth.

Quinn nearly died, _Christ when Rachel did that._

She pressed her fingers deeper, trailing the length of Rachel, like the way you do when you're sealing the folds of an envelope.

Rachel tensed, her body arching in response.

"Deeper," she whispered.

Quinn smiled lightly; she had no idea why _sign, sealed and delivered_ was in her head right now.

Moving gently, she trailed her lips down Rachel's neck again, wanting all the control, wanting Rachel to surrender. Rachel's breathing had become quicker, her body was pressing harder against Quinn's, hands tangled in the golden strands of her hair.

"Quinn, I'm going to com…"

"QUINN!"

They both jumped, Quinn's hand jerking out from Rachel's jeans in a second as Rachel rolled too far across her bed and fell down the side. Judy popped her head in through the door, just as Quinn had sheepishly dragged a pillow over her crotch to hide whatever was clearly seeping through her cotton pyjamas.

Fucking flood gates had not withheld against Rachel's adorable noises.

"Is Rachel staying for dinner, should I cook more vegetables?"

She frowned, "Rachel?"

Rachel's hand shot up from where she had fallen off the side of the bed.

"Sweetheart why are you on the floor?"

"I was praying," Rachel said, popping her head up and smiling.

Quinn stopped herself from smirking.

"Why are you red then?" Judy asked her frown deepening.

"I take it very seriously," Rachel responded and Judy nodded, Quinn knew her mother had just _sign, sealed delivered_ Rachel into her strange book.

"Okay Quinn, your father will be home soon, finish up the study and come wash up,"

Quinn was sitting on her hand, definitely needing to wash up, she watched as her mother frowned at Rachel and then left her room.

"EIGHTY FIVE PERCENT!" Rachel groaned, hurriedly doing her pants back up again.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Praying?"

Rachel huffed, "Well maybe next time you shouldn't basically throw me across the room…"

Quinn's eyes glowed, "Next time hey…"

Rachel grinned sheepishly, pulling at Quinn again, "You have to make me co…"

"QUINN I NEED AN EXTRA PAIR OF HANDS!"

"They're busy!" Quinn hissed under her breath, "I swear I'm going to put her on her own wheel of fortune and roll it down the street!"

* * *

><p>Perhaps we can imagine Rumours as lightening on a summer tinder, they often produce flames that bounce from person to person, and quite infamously flare up in exaggeration until they overlap and distinguish themselves in the cold waters of the actual truth.<p>

This morning, Jacob had been standing on the school steps with a microphone and another AV kid holding a camcorder. Immediately he had snapped it in Santana's face as she and Quinn walked towards the entrance of the school.

"Is it true that you once swallowed a whole leg of a turkey?"

Quinn had glared at him, "Jacob what the hell are you on about now?"

Jacob had ignored her, "Can either of you comment on one Rachel Berry's thoughts on making her triumphed return to the shire?"

Quinn's cheeks flushed red, "Listen squirt Rachel was really good to put you back on the debate team, one word and I'll…"

"What colour panties are you wearing?" he asked.

"Move Jewfro," Santana snapped and she pushed the camcorder out of their faces. However, not before Coach Sylvester and Amber had made themselves present on the school steps.

"Here we go," Quinn had muttered.

"Attention crack whores and butt jocks, this is formal announcement to inform you all that the newspaper is making a comeback at this school, and like print newspapers everywhere, we're leaner and meaner, no longer concerned with facts, fact-checking, integrity, or facts," Ms Sylvester paused for a moment, "The Muckraker's chief in charge editor is now Amber, so button down those secrets McKinley, there's not a skeleton in the closet we won't find,"

"Jesus," Quinn had muttered.

Santana had shrugged beside her, "Oscar Wilde said it best Q, the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about…."

Quinn had nearly died at the fact Santana actually knew who Oscar Wilde was.

**. . .**

Mr Schuester had his hands folded across his chest; he was staring at them so intently Quinn felt her body shaking in his wrath.

"Rumours are very serious guys," he said without taking his eyes off them.

"Well why don't you tell Sue Sylvester that," Puck said shrugging.

Mr Schuester drew his hands down his face, "The Muckraker is the school newspaper, which I was very sure wasn't going to start using its publications for gossip," he paused slightly, "This week I've clearly been mistaken,"

"Amber Mc gossip queen," Santana spat, "Just for the record, Brittany and I do not have crabs…"

"Santana…" Mr Schuester warned.

"Santana, nothing Mr Schuester!" Mercedes argued, "Amber targeted all the people she hates, just because Santana and Brittany are a couple doesn't mean…"

"Hey!" Mr Schuester said holding his hands up, "I'm on your side okay!

"It's ridiculous," Tina said, "She said my eyes are made from corn-starch…"

"And that my abs are painted on!" Mike replied annoyed, "I work for these babies…"

"Well I really did steal a car…" Puck shrugged and Quinn rolled her eyes.

Suddenly there was a bang and Finn had entered the room holding his phone, he marched directly to Rachel and thrust it into her hands.

"She's printing it as we speak," he said, "Tell me she's photo-shopped it!"

Quinn had stilled completely from the look on Rachel's face.

"Oh Christ," Rachel muttered.

"What?" Mr Schuester demanded, "What's wrong?"

"Tell me it's not true!" Finn yelled.

Rachel looked directly at Quinn but before she could read anything, Mr Schuester had taken the phone from Finn, his face frowned as he glanced at the screen.

"Rachel?" he asked, and he looked at Quinn, "Why are you two kissing in this photo?"

Sometimes shock sinks in differently depending on your level of strength. Right now though, Quinn could feel her heart pounding in her ears.

Finn had now turned to Quinn, he was staring at her, staring at her with these darkened eyes that suggested he was trying to fight the notion he might want to hit a girl.

"Tell me it's photo-shopped," he repeated.

Quinn wanted to just say it was, she didn't even know what the picture was of, how had it been taken?

How had anyone seen them?

They'd been so careful.

"Tell me that, you two are not in your car, and you're not kissing the girl I'm still in love with…"

There was Quinn's answer, and now she needed to give Finn his.

"I can't," she said, barely audible.

His face said everything that it needed to; he stood still, his body ridged from the anger and the shock that was probably reeling through his veins right now.

"You know what!" he said angrily, "Forget nationals, you can sing without me, I don't want anything more to do with this stupid club and its liars," Finn kicked the nearest chair and it went skidding into the drum set, crashing into the cymbals and sending the musical equipment shattering to the ground.

Quinn's knees nearly gave out as he left the room.

When a glass bowl is dropped to the ground, it makes this loud crashing sound. When a rock goes through a windshield or a window shatters, or if a chair leg breaks, or even when a picture falls off the wall it makes a sound. It splits through the air and the space between you and shoots through your ears, telling your brain that something has snapped, shattered or broken. But when your heart breaks, well that's a different story.

When your heart breaks, all you hear is silence. Quinn had always thought that when your heart splintered, it might give off the loudest noise in the world, like one of those huge gongs they strike at weight lifting championships. But it's as silent as the still air around you and for the most of it, a part of your just wishes there _was_ a noise, just to distract you from the pain.

Rachel had crawled into the chair, folded her arms across her chest and was staring at her shoes, Quinn knew her body had gone into defence mechanism, she couldn't talk; she had no words.

"How long?"

Quinn looked up, Kurt was on his feet, his eyes were glistening with these fresh tears; they made his eyes look so blue against his porcelain skin.

"I don't know," Quinn stammered.

"How long?" he repeated more forcefully.

"It started with letters," Rachel murmured, "The end of sophomore year,"

"Sophomore year!" he repeated his mouth opening, "Since _sophomore year_?"

"It's not like that Kurt, its complicated, there isn't a date on it, but if you need me to do that, things started changing after the summer," Quinn responded weakly, she was trying to find his eyes, just let him understand this through their eyes.

Kurt hastily wiped a tear from his cheek, "How could you do this Little B?"

Quinn felt another earth shattering blow to her heat.

"How could you keep this from us?"

"Because of exactly what just happened," Rachel murmured.

"NO!" he said angrily, "I'm not Finn! I'm supposed to be your best friend,"

Quinn's lips quivered, "Kurt you are , I just was so confused…"

"Confused? And you don't think I of all people would know what it's like to be confused? Or Santana or Brittany for god's sake, you lied to us, you went behind our back and lied to us…"

"Kurt please," Quinn begged.

"I'm done," he said, "If we can't be honest with each other then I don't want to be in this club anymore…"

And just like that he stormed passed Quinn, and exited the exact same way Finn had.

Mercedes stood up, "I'll go after him,"

"Cedes," Quinn said reaching out to her.

"Don't" she replied, pushing her away, "Just don't Q…"

Someone once stated that people don't grow absolutely, they instead grow chronologically. That everything we do is not shaped in one dimension but rather unevenly, we each grow partially. We mature in our childish realm, and then try to make our past, present and future pull us backwards and forwards through this infinite time loop to somehow fix the mistakes or the things we do in our present.

Right now Quinn wished she was that little girl again, hovering in her grandfather's garden playing with _Polly Pocket_ and humming the tune from the _Rugrats_ because she didn't know any better. But maybe that was unavoidable, maybe people are made up of layers, and cells and constellations, and sooner or later something just gives.

"Well I did not see this coming…" Puck muttered, wiping his hands down his face, "But if Finn and Kurt aren't in this thing, then I don't see why I should be… Mike, Tina?"

Mike shrugged, "Sorry Mr Schue…"

All three of them left with their backpacks over their shoulders.

Mr Schuester was trying to keep his feet on the ground, "What the hell just happened?" he asked.

Santana and Brittany had been quiet the whole time, but from the corner of her eye, Quinn couldn't ignore the tear that had slid down Santana's face.

"It's our fault…" Rachel whispered, "This is all our fault…"

"Girls I don't understand this…I don't understand why you would choose to live in the shadows about this? Glee Club is a family?"

"Not anymore," Quinn murmured, "Our family just left us…"

She turned away, grabbing her backpack and heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Brittany asked.

"Anywhere but here…" she replied and Quinn disappeared from the room.

* * *

><p>There was a Greek poet, who wrote a series of poems that were supposed to be about love and happiness, only he wrote them in ancient Greek, and it took Philosopher's years to decipher what he was actually saying. Eventually when the poems were untangled from their cryptic language, they discovered that in actual fact he had been talking about a brick wall. This brick wall represented all the moments in his life when an obstacle would surface, and in effect block him from whatever path he was trying to conquer.<p>

Obstacles become our companions in life.

They're always on every corner, on every road, waiting patiently to throw things in our way and see if we can overcome them.

Have you ever head of the saying it takes two?

Ever wondered what it was implying specifically?

Often people never understand that to realise things in the world, it will always take two.

It will take danger to achieve courage. It will take suffering to learn patience. It will take sadness to appreciate happiness.

Most of all though; it will take love to realise loss.

The auditorium was empty, it felt so much bigger and silent as Quinn walked down the aisle. Rachel had called her non-stop since the other day, and begged her to meet her, now the only place that seemed safe was here, near the stage, where Rachel felt at home.

And Quinn, well home was where Rachel was.

Quinn found her leaning against the piano, she was drawing circles with her fingers across its black surface. Almost immediately Quinn's reflection fell onto its surface and caused Rachel to look up.

"Hi," Quinn whispered.

"Hi," Rachel responded, her eyes sweeping over her, with the same intensity that had built up so strongly over these months.

"I missed you," Quinn said softly.

Rachel looked down at her hands, "I need to talk to you about something,"

"We'll work through this," Quinn said softly.

Rachel was already crying, she shook her head, "Maybe we shouldn't do this…" she whispered.

"Smalls," Quinn said, "Don't…"

"But look what we did to Glee Club…"

"They're just in shock Rachel, they'll come round,"

"Quinn I never wanted to hurt anybody, Nationals means so much to this Club; I can't ruin it for them,"

Quinn's heart was racing, and not in the good way, it was panicked.

She stepped tentatively towards her, sliding her hand across the piano to reach for her, only Rachel, for the first time in so long, pulled away.

"I can't do this…" she whimpered, "I'm sorry…"

"Baby," Quinn choked, "Please, I'll do anything…"

Rachel brought her eyes to Quinn's, "I still love you Quinn, but I can't hurt Glee Club…"

It felt like water slipping beneath her fingers, as though she was trying so desperately to hold onto Rachel but like water, she just slipped straight through Quinn's fingers and disappeared. As Rachel ran from the auditorium, Quinn's legs turned to jelly, she slid down the side of the piano and ignored the sounds of her arms catching the keys as she fell. Curling herself into a ball, she sobbed into her knees until she couldn't possibly breathe anymore.

And then Quinn felt something, she felt a hand slide over her shoulder, pulling her upwards. The tears had made her vision blurry, but before she could speak, someone was dabbing away at her eyes. They fixed her hair, they wiped away the glistening tears and they straightened her jacket on her body.

"We'll get her back," Santana said and Quinn melted.

"How…?"

Santana pressed her finger to Quinn's nose, "It started with letters didn't it?"

For the second time that week, Quinn fell into Santana's open arms.


	25. Chapter 24

Oh Little Readers, you make me smile when a whole bunch of you give me ideas **all at once**, and now I'm trying to span it all out, to make sure everyone's ideas get included!

I will do my absolute best okay!

Quick shout out to _elitemassacre6_ for the Florence and the Machine song reference… I included that just for you!

Sorry for being MIA guys; to make up for it, I made this chapter extra long :)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 24<strong>

High School, Junior Year

_To apologise is to offer your greatest courage. To accept is to offer your greatest gift_

* * *

><p>For Frannie's senior major, before she had started College, she had been studying the art and philosophy of Buddhism. Quinn had never really been all that interested, she hadn't been old enough to grasp the ideas behind the teachings. Now however she understood what some of the stories meant. There was one that had been playing on her mind the entire week.<p>

Once upon a time there had been a little boy with a bad temper. To correct his bad temper, his father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he became angry, he should hammer a nail in the fence, in their back garden.

By the first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Gradually however, the number of daily nails dwindled down. The little boy eventually discovered that it was easier to hold his temper rather than to drive those nails into the fence. Eventually the day came when the little boy did not lose his temper once.

He ran straight to his father and proudly told him that he had overcome his temper. The father smiled at him, but suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.

As the days went on, the little boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone, and he had pulled each one out. The father stopped his work and took his son by the hand; he led him to the fence in their back garden.

"Son," he said smiling, "you have done well, but now look at these holes in the fence. This fence will never ever be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave scars just like the ones you can see caused by the nails. You can lash out in anger at the people around you, and then you can apologise as many times as you want, but the scars are still there, and they remain there,"

Quinn wondered if all the anger in Glee Club right now would leave permanent scars, or whether they would all find bandages big enough to wrap them all together again.

Can you ever really call someone your own?

Like the way you would when you were little?

'_No, that's my red pen'_

'_No, that's my barbie doll'_

'_No, that's my guitar'_

Can you ever possess something to the point it magnifies itself into your own?

Can you ever own a human being?

Maybe it had never been about making Rachel her whole world, maybe all Quinn wanted to be was her favourite part in it. The more she tried to reason this whole mess in her own mind, the more she realised that each human being eventually becomes a character of their own, to be what others cannot and to say what everyone else can't.

There's a song by Florence and the Machine, called 'Cosmic Love'. Quinn had never listened to the lyrics as much as what she had today.

_I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map_

_And knew that somehow I could find my way back_

Things were fragile right now, as fragile as the small grass blades recovering from the winter, as the snow had started to melt away. Spring was on its way, a season that was meant for change, for renewal, a fresh start. Quinn wanted a fresh new start, she had hated this entire week. Rachel had avoided her so consistently, she may as well have been a professional, and Glee Club was a mess. Mr Schuester had consistently tried to remind them, that it was still a class they needed to be attending, but so far everyone was diverting the lessons.

_Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too _

_So I stayed in the darkness with you_

_She felt darkness all around now. _

_Like something had killed the light in her eyes._

Sometimes it just takes one moment in your life, to come to a realisation that you should have made long before. Thinking about Rachel this week, only made Quinn want her even more; she just wanted to be with her. Thinking about her, Quinn's heart still beats slow and fast all at once.

God, how was she going to get her back when she couldn't think of the words to write?

And Quinn missed Kurt.

She missed him so much; and she didn't know how to get his trust back again.

There was gentle breeze about today; it was pleasant for a mid-afternoon Sunday, as Quinn rode her bike south along the town square. Picking up speed and then slowing down again, as though she was playing with the air around her. She could have driven, in fact she didn't understand why her grandfather had specifically asked her to meet her at the Pawn Shop this afternoon, usually she would just swing past his and they would walk together. Quinn rode past the library and peddled through the back of the car park, once she reached the great dip, the hill beared down on her like the road was falling over itself, but the sun was out, and it was tanning her thighs as she pushed her bike to go faster.

Quinn trailed one leg over the seat as she came to a stop beside the pawn shop; she leant the bike against the wall and smirked at how much it fit in with all the other piles of people's bits and pieces littering the junk yard adjacent to the building. She pulled her wallet and her phone from the small basket on the front of her handlebars and walked towards the entrance of the building.

"_Quinnie!"_ her grandfather had shouted into the phone at 8:00am this morning, _"I think I need hearing aids"_

"_Pop,"_ she had muttered trying to wake up from the night before, _"You get hearing aids from a doctor not a pawn shop,"_

He hadn't listened.

So now Quinn was going to attempt to convince him that buying pre used hearing aids was both highly unhygienic and probably not legal. This had been the plan circulating in her head the whole way here.

Now, as she rounded the corner, she froze when she saw Kurt leaning against the small signpost outside.

She hadn't even had the chance to disappear behind the brick wall again, because he'd seen her too and their eyes had locked.

Quinn inhaled briefly, before taking tentative steps towards him, _she had to do this_.

"Hearing aids?" he asked as she approached him, and suddenly Quinn knew what her grandfather had intended.

Quinn nodded sheepishly, "I thought it sounded odd,"

Kurt threw his hands up in the air, and marched directly to her, "This is stupid," he said, "I'm being stupid,"

Quinn bit her lip, "I should have told you…"

Kurt looked at her, "Did you even know what you were doing?"

Quinn felt the lump grow in the back of her throat, as the tears welled and she had to stop herself from releasing them, "No," she whimpered, "I still don't…"

"Oh Little B, what am I going to do with you…" he whispered and he slipped his arms around her, bringing Quinn into a hug.

Quinn held onto him as tightly as she possibly could.

"I don't ever want to fight again…" she murmured.

"Well," he quipped, "at least we know your grandfather still has it,"

Quinn rested her head on his shoulder, "What am I going to do with my life…"

"As in one Miss Berry?"

Quinn nodded.

"Oh Quinn," Kurt sighed, "She's a diva and half, she probably wants to just come straight back to you, only she's being stubborn,"

Quinn shrugged, "She keeps avoiding me,"

"We've all avoided each other, you should have seen Finn in biology the other day; he needs to join that Rage against the Machine band,"

Quinn felt her stomach roll over, she'd forgotten about that.

There was a clap of hands and suddenly her grandfather had waltz out of the Pawn store holding an overstuffed brown bear.

"Excellent," he mused, "The plan succeeded!"

"Snips," Kurt said folding his arms, "That was extremely sneaky,"

Quinn watched her grandfather's face break out into a wide spread grin, "Boy I was in the army for years, you don't think I know a thing or two about tactic?"

"Pop," Quinn said frowning, "How'd you know,"

Her grandfather tucked the ginormous bear under his arm, "Late Thursday afternoon, _Querida_ and her little blonde bomb shell came tearing up my driveway dragging your lovely Miss Berry friend,"

Quinn stilled.

"Next thing I know there are all these tears and a commotion about Glee Club being doomed because of star crossed lovers…"

Quinn opened her mouth.

"Quinnie I did not come down in the last shower," he mused, "I knew you had a little spark for Miss Berry the first time you brought her over,"

_God she loved her grandfather._

"But what's all this drama about Glee Club not accepting you?"

"They were a little shocked," Kurt reasoned.

"But it's a club about show choir?"

"Grandad," Quinn reasoned, "Rachel and I haven't exactly seen eye to eye…"

"Quinn use to bully the absolute pants off her," Kurt said and Quinn felt her grandads eyes fixate on her, she instantly shrivelled in guilt.

"Quinn Lucy Fabray," he demanded, "my granddaughter does no such thing,"

"Not anymore!" Kurt corrected, "Quinn turned humble, she realised that being an egocentric maniac wasn't the best thing to be, so she joined Glee Club and met me,"

Quinn's grandfather was smirking at Kurt, "She annoy you did she?"

Kurt bit his lip, "Sorry," he whispered and Quinn hugged him, she figured she deserved his little verbal outburst.

"You're going to take this to Miss Berry," Arthur said thrusting it in Quinn's face.

"Pop," she moaned, "Who knows how old this teddy bear is, it looks mangled, its arms are nearly falling off,"

He shook his head and threw his hands in the air, "Quinnie, by coming here every second week have you not heard a thing about what I've been trying to teach you?"

Quinn flushed slightly, as she took the bear from her grandfather.

"It is never about the way someone dresses, or looks, or how they talk or if their interests are different to yours Quinnie, it's about the story that comes along with them. This great big broken, ugly looking bear belonged to one Miss Glynis Johns whom starred in the 1973 original production of _A Little Night Music_, as Desiree. Correct me if I'm wrong Quinnie, but is that not Miss Berry's favourite musical?"

Quinn was literally speechless.

Kurt hummed, "So her favourite isn't _My Fair Lady_, I always knew she was hiding something,"

"Pop," Quinn spluttered, "That's perfect,"

Arthur looked at her, "Quinnie, just because you think something will ruin another thing, doesn't necessarily mean it will. I can very much assure you that Rachel is nothing short of a little broken glass slipper that needs something to fill her again,"

Kurt hugged her grandfather for her.

"Marry me Snips," he shouted.

* * *

><p>Quinn could easily distract herself. Keep her head buried in her books, focus in maths class for once, instead of just copying the answers off Mike. But there was a flaw in her great plan to avoid thinking about what was going on.<p>

The great flaw; was that every time she paused, she would think of Rachel.

Quinn felt Mike slide a piece of paper across the table, he'd created this paper crane, with the word _Open_, written on its neck.

Glancing slightly to the front of the room to make sure her teacher wasn't looking, Quinn opened the crane.

_I'm really sorry Q! _

_I am the biggest douche known to mankind, you and Rachel are my friends and I should support you. _

_I do…. . (my Asian sorry face)._

Quinn had to hold the laughter in; she leant across the desk with her pen and scribbled on Mike's notebook.

_Sorry+Mike = forgiven_

He grinned at her, "Do you understand what the lessons about?" he whispered.

Quinn raised her eyebrows, "Geometry could apologise one hundred times and I would still not forgive it…"

"Wanna play angry birds instead?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Game on Mikey,"

It's funny to think that when you walk down the hallways or corridors of your school, one day you won't be there anymore. You won't stand at your locker struggling to stuff some unnecessary textbook back inside; you won't be shouting to your lab partner if the assignment was due this week or next, you won't be lounging around on the bleachers in the morning sun, and you won't be laughing at the _CPR_ practice dummy in health class because some joker decided to dress it up.

High School is different for everyone isn't it.

Some enjoy it, other's despise it, some are just waiting for it to end, other's could stay there forever.

If you could pick one thing about High School that you thought everyone wanted what would you say?

Quinn had always thought it was to be _noticed_.

Now?

Now, she thinks that maybe all anyone ever wants in high school is to have people be nice to you, be kind, be considerate, treat people the way you would want to be treated.

Santana pushed Quinn backwards into the lockers, "Jesus San," Quinn cried.

"Sorry," Santana muttered, "But you've been so hard to get a hold of all day, where's your phone, why aren't you answering my messages?"

Quinn sighed slightly, "I meant to," she muttered.

Santana rolled her eyes, "God you are more mopey than my mother after watching the Season Finale of Grey's Anatomy…"

Quinn snapped her eyes at her, "Look I'm pretty sure I've been more than sympathetic when you and Britts have fought, now it's your turn to…."

Santana held up her hand, "Be calm Amigo," she said, "Did you write it?"

Instantly Quinn knew what Santana was referring to, "Well yes, sort of, it's more a song if anything,"

"Great," Santana said, "Give it to me; I will drop it to her after school,"

"You're going to go over to the Berry's household and hand deliver a love letter?"

Santana shrugged, "Quinn sometimes you do things that shock the living core out of me, like that time in middle school when you showed up to school with a pogo stick and demanded I bounce around chanting Dr Seuss quotes all lunch,"

Quinn slumped slightly; she'd gone through a really weird stage before Finn, and popularity, and whatever other confusion decided to engulf her.

"But I've never stopped supporting you have I?"

Quinn shook her head, "Santana I just…"

"I get it Q," she replied in the simplest tone, "Just let Britts and me be what we have all along,"

"What?"

Santana grinned as Quinn dragged out the letter from her backpack, "Number two and three in the _unholy trinity_, we got you Quinn, now let me go get Rachel,"

It's not often that you can look at something in three's and think it's a good thing. There's that saying _three's a crowd_ or those three little _blind_ mice.

But maybe once in a while something good does come in threes.

Santana, Brittany and Quinn; now that was something in threes that Quinn liked.

All day Quinn had tried to think of the most poetic piece of writing that she could ever conjure to insist Rachel not be so scared about them. In the end, she had come across a song that she had never heard before. Even though it was by a band she would never have normally listened to, Quinn felt the lyrics. She felt the lyrics so much, she needed to tell Rachel. So she had, in the letter that Santana was going to deliver to her after school.

_You seem quite nice for a girl with good looks__  
><em>

_And I'm the kinda person that'll make you feel better when your life gets shook__  
><em>

_So give it a chance according to your plans__  
><em>

_I bet I'm not number one on your list to kiss, but please understand_

_You seem quite shy, but you're oh so cute__  
><em>

_And I'm the kind of girl that would love to be yours if you asked me to__  
><em>

_So just take a chance, try to hold my hand__  
><em>

_I swear I'd never let go__  
><em>

_I really want to come out and tell you__  
><em>

_Oh darling, I love you so__  
><em>

_If you'd ask me for my heart, there's no way that I'll say no__  
><em>

_Oh darling, just take a chance please__  
><em>

_So we can stay together till hell starts freeze_

And yet the whole way to her history class, Quinn couldn't help but think, that Rachel had been so quick to surrender what that had only just begun.

* * *

><p>Santana Lopez not slushy-ing her was one thing, Santana Lopez smiling at Rachel as she walked down the corridor was the another thing, but Santana Lopez showing up on her front doorstep was just about the icing on the cake.<p>

Rachel had opened the door, frowned, and then literally asked if Santana had been lost.

"No," she had quipped, "Where's your room?"

Short of wanting to use her father's asthma inhaler, Rachel had led Santana up the stairs and watched as she made herself comfortable amongst her pillows.

"Your room's not half bad Berry," she mused looking around, "I was expecting Barbie dolls,"

Rachel pouted, "Santana, short of your pre opinion, I believe in the arts, my room sparkles with glitter,"

"Oh god," Santana made a face, "No speaking about glitter, Britts is too obsessed with Ke$ha right now, and I'm mildly jealous,"

Rachel folded her arms, why was she so nervous in her own room? This was her room, Santana was the one intruding, this was her castle, and she needed to take charge.

"Santana, why are you here?"

Santana stopped staring at the small _Patti Lupone_ shrine on Rachel's desk to look at her, "I have something from Quinn," she said.

Rachel stilled.

"You have what?"

"A letter," Santana shrugged.

How was this possible? Why did Santana have a letter? Why hadn't Quinn left it in the library or on her car windshield?

"Quinn wanted to store it away somewhere that you'd find it, but I figured I'd hand deliver it and give you a little piece of my mind too,"

Question answered, nerves now present.

"How'd you feel when you dated Finn, Rachel?"

This was not the question she had been expecting.

"Good," she muttered, "I guess,"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Oh for Christ sake" she cursed.

"Santana, I really did care about Finn, he just didn't understand me the way Quinn does," and she closed her mouth realising she'd just answered the question she had been asking herself all week.

"When did you realise that?"

Rachel fiddled with the bottom of her sweater, "She took me to the space museum,"

Santana had one of her, _'I'm going to tell you how it is' looks on her face_, "Quinn surprises you like that," she responded.

Rachel frowned, "I don't understand,"

"Rachel, I've known Quinn a long time, a lot longer than Britts, a lot longer than anyone in Glee Club, god even Finn," she paused slightly, "She's been this shell for so long you know, and very rarely she has shown these small bits of what's on the inside of that shell, but it doesn't mean she hasn't been listening the whole time,"

Rachel still grappled with what she meant by this.

"Listen Berry," Santana said eyeing her, "Chances are Quinn knows you a hell of a lot better than you think she does. She's like a pineapple; she's all hard and tough on the outside, but on the inside she's romantic and sweet and gentle, and she loves you, she loves you so much I will literally impound you if you break her heart,"

Rachel gulped, "Santana I don't want to hurt Quinn, I just want her…"

"So what's stopping you?"

"What if my own wants destroy what the Glee Club _wants_? I'd never live with myself,"

"For the love of seeing Brittany sunbaking, you two have made each other backward," Santana groaned, "Quinn's being all emotionally out of control and you're putting other peoples performance needs in front of your own,"

"Santana," Rachel replied defensively, "I want the absolute best for Glee Club, you guys are my…."

"Family," Santana finished for her, "and as a family, we accept whatever happens. Don't worry about everyone Rachel, I spoke to them, four way conversation between Mike, Artz, Tina and Cedes, they were just disappointed you guys didn't come to us…"

"Santana we were scare…"

"Me and Britts were the same," she said interrupting, "They just needed a wakeup call, from someone whose been there done that, they get it okay, with the exception of _Pastry bag_ and _Pucky Puck_," she narrowed her eyes slightly, "Which will be seen to… but for now you just need to stop being such a nuisance…"

"How do I get Quinn…?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Like normal people Rachel, call her…"

"But I want to see her…"

Santana huffed, "Seriously Berry, this is the last favour I do for you today, I will go and tell Quinn to get her ass over here because you're car-less tonight… where are your Dads?"

"It's Gaga appreciation night at their best man's house, they've done it for years, but look Santana, I can ride my bike…"

Santana glared at her, "Its dark now Rachel, you'll be like one those small little bunnies hoping along the highway just waiting to be road kill,"

Rachel seemed aghast for a moment, imagining herself with fluffy white ears and a tail, absolutely not the look that would get Quinn back.

"Santana, thank you" Rachel said softly.

Santana stopped in the doorway before leaving, "Do me a favour?" she asked.

Rachel nodded.

"Call me San, my friends do…"

* * *

><p>People can say sorry as much as they want to. They can repeat it as many times as they want, over and over until the word becomes fixated permanently on their lips. But you'll never know how sorry a person is, until you look into their watery eyes, hear the sadness in their voice, and realise they've hurt themselves just as much, if not more, than they ever hurt you. Santana had called not even half an hour ago; told Quinn that she had left the letter with Rachel and now would be the best time to drive over there. It had taken another fifteen minutes for Quinn to pull courage out of thin air.<p>

On the way over, she had realised she'd left the _Savage Garden_ CD in the stereo player and _Truly Madly Deeply_ had clicked over. Rachel's face may as well have been carved into the dashboard.

The front door had been opened by Hiram, dressed in a bright blue jumpsuit with stuffed animals hanging off him.

"Lady Gaga affair," he had shrugged as he let Quinn inside, "Rachel is in her room,"

Quinn had nodded and passed Leroy on the couch, "Forgot how to get here had you?" he had queried and she knew he had been talking about her absence this last week.

"A little," she had murmured under her breath and then she had taken the stairs and knocked on Rachel's bedroom door.

When Rachel had let her inside, Quinn had this unrelenting urge just to fuse their lips together, but then something inside her was ticking over, this small feeling of anger that Rachel hadn't fought for them as much as what she had.

After moments of staring at each other, some broken sentences thrown up in the air, Quinn was now irritated.

"You just gave up on us Rachel," she said, folding her arms, "You gave up on us before we'd even started, how am I supposed to believe you really want this?"

Rachel's eyes were fixated on the ground; she was completely still, as though she wasn't breathing.

"Look at me!" Quinn demanded, and she watched as Rachel drew her eyes upwards.

God that look, that longing intense look.

"You're better than me," she whispered.

"What?" Quinn frowned.

"You could have anyone on this planet Quinn, you're the prettiest girl I've ever met," Rachel let the tear fall from her eye, "But you're also much more than that,"

"Smalls," Quinn replied softly.

"I saw how everyone reacted, how the hell could someone like me have a girl like you,"

Quinn immediately dragged Rachel forwards, "Stop," she said firmly; she wanted to shake this stupid logic out of her.

"I don't deserve you," Rachel whimpered, "I'm such a loser,"

"You don't realise it do you?" Quinn said gently, brushing Rachel's hair behind her ear, god it felt so soft beneath her fingers.

"Realise what?"

"That you're beautiful,"

Rachel immediately flushed, "Fives…"

"Be quiet," Quinn muttered and she brought her lips to Rachel's. She would never forget the feel of her lips. How soft they were, how sweet they tasted, how they curved and fit with hers, and how Rachel would always part them straight away to allow Quinn inside.

Quinn pressed against her gently, pushing Rachel against the desk.

"You're mine," she whispered and she gripped Rachel's thighs.

Whimpering Rachel slid backwards on top of her oak desk, letting Quinn slip between her legs.

"God Quinn Fabray," she murmured and she dragged her nails down Quinn's back.

"Smalls," Quinn whispered, running her lips across Rachel's jawline, and down her neck, "Please be my girlfriend,"

Rachel seemed to immediately still, causing Quinn to look at her.

"Or not…" Quinn responded.

"No," Rachel stammered, "It's just…" she bit her lip, staring at her.

"It's just what…?"

"I want my Dads to know first…"

"Oh Rachel," Quinn groaned, "In the past week I've been outed to Glee Club and my grandfather, can we hold off on our parents?"

Rachel pouted, "Fives, if you want this to be right, then I want our parents to know,"

"Okay your Dads then…" Quinn responded shrugging.

"And your parents too,"

Quinn shook her head, "I think not, pregnant last year, a lesbian this year, they'll ship me somewhere…"

Rachel tightened her legs around Quinn, making her stomach flip slightly, just a little closer and she could be in the best position to start eliminating clothes.

"I thought we said no labels?"

Quinn bit her lip, how you define yourself these days, when labels are something that shouldn't matter and you're just trying to prove to the world that maybe life's about falling in love with another human being, falling in love with a _person_, regardless of their gender.

"Rach…"

"I want it to be right," she replied and she kissed the corner of Quinn's lips, "No more secrets,"

_God how the hell was she supposed to refuse?_

"When do we tell them?"

Rachel grinned, "Now!"

Quinn didn't have the time to protest, because Rachel pushed off the desk, planted her feet on the ground and then proceeding to drag Quinn into the lounge room.

It had taken a lifetime for Quinn to recover from her elementary school incident. It had been her first presentation in front of her class about the importance of Native Americans. Everyone had been dressed in cultural outfits and face paint and she'd had more than a dozen eyes glaring at her. She opened her mouth to deliver her opening line, and instead she projectile vomited on an exchange student from Kenya.

Ever since, she had always hated public speaking. It wasn't a case that she couldn't fake the confidence, because she could, and she could do it damn well. It was more a case that she would get this nervous tick in her stomach and have to fight with her body not to pass out from the nerves.

That feeling, times ten million was how she felt in this particular moment. When Rachel had waltz them into the living room and promptly told her father's that Quinn had an announcement to make.

"Are you two going to be giving us a rendition of _Proud Mary_?" Leroy asked hopefully.

"No," Rachel quipped, "Although I do have to download the sheet music for that," she looked at Quinn, "Quinn wants to ask you something,"

Quinn's throat was dry; like she'd just stepped into some distant Arabian desert and the water supply chain had gone bust.

"Yes," Quinn stammered.

Leroy turned down the volume on the television; he was smirking, which was just making Quinn even more nervous.

"Well go on," Hiram urged, moving slightly on the couch.

"Can I be your girlfriend?" she blurted out; just like that time in elementary, only this was _word vomit_.

"Well," Leroy mused, "There's two issues with that, one being I'm married sweetheart and two, I don't exactly swing that way,"

Quinn flushed bright red, had she replaced _your_ and _Rachel_ she might have succeeded with the correct sentence.

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Daddy, Quinn's tongue tied, because she's nervous,"

Leroy looked at Quinn with his eyes raised, "Am I correct in thinking that you're the one who stole my baby girl's heart?"

Quinn gulped he was staring at her so intently she wasn't sure whether he was happy about it or not.

"What if I say yes?" she barely managed.

Leroy grinned, throwing his hands in the air, "Hiram," he said tapping his thigh, "Look what our girl snagged! She's got herself one of those hotties!"

Quinn flushed bright red.

"You two think we didn't have some idea of the relationship brewing?" Hiram asked, "Don't feel threatened Quinn, we liked you the moment you decided to watch _Walking with Dinosaurs_ with us,"

"Which has another season coming soon," Leroy quipped.

Quinn let go of the breath she had been holding.

"Well Rachel," Leroy said impatiently, "Get your girlfriend a slice of my cheesecake would you?"

Rachel grinned; kissing her father's each on the cheek as Quinn still recovered from her _parent public announcement_.

In one swift motion, Rachel had caught hold of Quinn's arm and was pulling her into the kitchen.

The Berry's kitchen was one those quaint country styled interiors, with a hint of Jewish culture wrapped up in the utensils and coffee machine sitting on the bench.

"Smalls, that was not the way I had planned to ask…"

But Rachel had already slammed her against the fridge, causing it to rattle the containers sitting on top.

"mmmm Quinn Fabray, my girlfriend…" she whispered.

Quinn cupped her face, "Rachel Berry," she murmured, "Mine,"

Rachel's eyes lit up, "Can we get a joint name like Santana and Brittany?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Hold your horses baby," she muttered, "I still have to deal with my parents,"

"Quinn, parents love you no matter what,"

Quinn sighed, kissing the top of Rachel's forehead, she didn't want to admit that sometimes in certain circumstances, things were more complicated than that.

"Where's my cheese cake?" Quinn asked, changing the subject, and pressing harder against Rachel, just to watch her squirm.

She playfully bit Quinn's hand, before turning and reaching into the fridge.

Maybe this would be okay; maybe she would just sit her parents down and tell them the facts. She was in love with a girl and she had never felt more alive in her life.

God this sounded so much easier writing it in letters.

"Baby?" Rachel asked and Quinn looked up.

Her mouth was simultaneously met with a plate full of strawberry cheese cake, as Rachel squashed it into her chin.

"Smalls!" Quinn squealed and Rachel took off running around the bench to escape her.

Quinn wiped the cream from the side of her cheek and placed it in her mouth.

Definitely amazing cheese cake.

"You're in trouble," she teased, edging towards her.

"That's payback for asking my Dad out before me,"

Quinn folded her arms, her eye's glistening, "Well, with you being my girlfriend I was going to suggest you lick this off me, but I can play the game too Rachel Berry,"

"Wait!" Rachel protested, abandoning her wooden chair shield, "I'm starving,"

"For cheese cake?"

"No, for Quinn Fabray," Rachel grinned and Quinn laughed as she captured her lips, cheesecake and all.

Everything about this moment, reminded Quinn of something she had read once, stated by a man called Howard Thurman; that perhaps we shouldn't ask what the world needs. Perhaps we should ask what makes each of us come alive, and obtain it. Because what the world actually needs are people who have come alive.

* * *

><p>Sue Sylvester had made is extraordinarily clear that if they failed her in the Cheerleading Nationals this year, she would create mini Cheerio's voodoo dolls and set about destroying their lives. Quinn absolutely whole heartedly did not for a moment think she was lying.<p>

Right now though, Glee Club was only half mended, if they were still going to reach Nationals in New York, they needed their lead male vocal back, and as much as it pained her to say, they also needed their smooth criminal.

"I swear I'll go Lima Heights adjacent on your little ass Berrybox,"

Quinn frowned as Santana tore the piece of paper from Rachel's grip.

"San, paper cuts do happen!" Rachel replied sucking her thumb slightly.

"And why are you calling my girlfriend Berrybox?" Quinn queried, trying not to melt as Rachel beamed.

"She's my new juke box," Santana reasoned and Quinn saw the analogy.

"Santana you don't press buttons and she will just pop out tunes at random," she corrected.

"No she does," Brittany said crawling from the couch to lie beside Rachel. She playfully pressed her finger to Rachel's nose and simultaneously Rachel opened her mouth.

_I don't need to try to control you__  
><em>

_Look into my eyes and I'll own you_

_With the moves like Jagger__  
><em>

_I've got the moves like Jagger_

Quinn laughed and Brittany then pressed her finger to Rachel's cheeks,

_You can be the sweet tooth I can be the dentist__  
><em>

_You can be the shoes and I can be the laces__  
><em>

_You can be the heart that I spill on the pages_

"Point taken," Quinn responded.

"We need tactics," Santana complained, "Without Finn and Puck we don't have the numbers for nationals,"

"Which happens in three weeks!"

Quinn glanced up as Kurt waltz into her grandfather's lounge room, carrying an oversized _manbag_.

"I see Snips is working on his pre summer tan," he mused.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "He feels left out not coming to Greece,"

"Kurt," Santana remarked glaring at him, "Your _manbags_ keep getting bigger,"

"Do you think we could fit Lord Tubbington in there?" Brittany asked, "My mum never let me take him to show and tell, and he's always wanted to just experience school,"

"Santana," Kurt responded, "Kiss your girlfriend before I put a sock in her mouth to stop her from speaking,"

Santana pecked Brittany's cheek, "I would carry Tubbs around all day baby," she whispered.

"Not in the best mood?" Quinn asked as Kurt flopped down on the empty armchair.

"Three weeks," he cried, "Three weeks and _lurch_ and the _jester_ are the reason we might be forfeiting New York,"

"It's not an option," Rachel replied defiantly, "I would rather eat caterpillars than have my rights to Broadway taken away,"

Kurt smirked at Quinn, "How do you feel about the taste of caterpillars Little B?" and Quinn grinned, watching Rachel turn bright red.

"We need a plan," she said matter-o-factly, retrieving the paper Santana had stripped from her.

Santana groaned, "If you draw one more diagram!"

"Girls!"

Arthur walked into the room, just as Rachel was struggling to pry the pen away from Santana's grip.

"And Kurtis," he corrected.

"Compliment taken," Kurt quipped.

"Aren't you kids hungry?"

"Pop, we ate not even an hour ago,"

He shrugged his shoulders, his face pinkish from sitting in the sun too long, "Well your generation has an extra stomach these days. How bout I just put the kettle on?"

"Oh and pop tarts Snips!" Kurt said jumping up.

"Boy, you will turn into a pop tart," Quinn heard her grandfather grumble as Kurt followed him from the room.

"Thank god for your grandfather Q," Brittany said smiling slightly, "This old house is like our safety zone,"

Quinn smiled to herself, she couldn't thank her grandad enough for just how openly well he had accepted things.

"_Now if you need time Quinnie, you and your little Miss Berry just come here, you just make yourself some tea, play a game of chess with your Pop, and your secret is safe with me until you're ready to tell it," _he had said the other day.

At least they were protected in this house. Just for a little bit longer.

* * *

><p>Mr Schuester had his eyes raised, "Girls, Glee Club is about free will, you can't just bet Finn and Puck's place,"<p>

"Yes we can," Santana responded.

"And what about safety girls? None of you play football?"

"Schuester that is sexism and I don't like it," Santana said defensively.

Mr Schuester groaned, "Santana how many times do I have to…"

"YOU'RE ON!"

Puck had burst into the room waving the purple flyer Quinn and Rachel had created last night.

"Puck," Mr Schuester tried reasoning, "You're here now, why don't you just stay for the lesson, play a few tunes, we can work this out,"

"No way,"

Quinn inhaled as Finn stepped into the room, "You girls are on, if you win we'll come back to Glee Club and go to nationals, but if we win…"

"We get your free tickets to New York and you stop asking us to come back!" Puck grinned.

Mr Schuester's face said everything, he was absolutely not happy about this.

"Can you guys actually hear yourselves?" he asked, "You're betting on the participation in this club, I do not condone this,"

"What's done is done Mr Schue," Mercedes reasoned, "This game is being played outside school hours, you don't have a say,"

"But it's absolutely ridiculous; you girls could get seriously injured,"

"Finn and Puck will be easy on them," Artie offered, glaring at them both as though he thought they were making just a big of mistake as the girls were.

"Hell no we won't," Puck responded folding his arms.

"They're not the only ones who can break stuff," Finn said and his eyes fell directly on Quinn.

**. . .**

You could almost say that football is a lot like chess. It's part war and part controlled mayhem. Every move a player makes is very specific, as the success or failure of any player can be the result of one misstep or one successful outlet.

The snow had melted away, and replaced the oval with fresh pockets of greenery to start another spring. Santana and Brittany had snuck into the boys locker rooms and found uniforms. After Rachel had doused them in Pine-O-fresh, they had managed to squeeze into the ones worn by the freshman's, who were still short and little.

Quinn now stood on the open field, with a helmet planted over her head watching and laughing as Rachel jumped up and down on the spot.

"Let's kick some ass!" she yelled.

Tina had her hands on her hips, "Santana this is the absolute worst plan you have ever had in your life,"

Santana flexed the ginormous shoulder pads, "Actually I think it's the best,"

"You want us to play a game of football against grown boys, who actually play football to win a bet?"

"And when we win, we will never let them forget it," Brittany quipped.

There was one simple rule.

First team to three touchdowns wins.

This was going to be short and simple, Mr Schuester had threatened to ring parents if they hadn't come to some sort of comprise. There was so much about standing here that reminded Quinn of courage. Reminded her that maybe courage doesn't need to be about who can roar the loudest, maybe courage is just about the person who says in the softest voice, '_I will try again tomorrow'._

Courage was definitely needed within the first ten minutes of the game when the boys had already scored a touchdown; twice.

But then, out of movements Quinn didn't even think she had, Tina had somehow captured the ball and taken off up the field.

Touchdown.

The whistle blew again, and this time Rachel caught hold of the ball, sprinted up the field and as Quinn swelled, the girls were rewarded with another touchdown.

Now they were even 2:2 the next touchdown made the bet.

Finn had called a huddle between Puck and a couple of the other football players. Quinn watched as they spoke in low voices.

"We should cuddle too," Rachel said.

"Huddle," Tina corrected.

"How exactly are we planning on winning now?" Mercedes asked, looking at Santana.

Brittany grinned, "We create the ultimate diversion,"

"I don't understand," Quinn replied frowning.

"Go set it up baby," Santana smiled and she kissed Brittany before she bounded out from the huddle.

"Santana I'm really rather nervous," Rachel responded honestly.

"Rachel trust _Brittana_, we got it,"

Mercedes rolled her eyes, "Oh please with your joined names,"

"Well at least I have a joint name, you would be Totcedes!"

Mercedes shrugged, "I like me some tots thanks,"

There was a clap and suddenly the game was back on again. Quinn stood legs apart, shoulders flexed, staring at the figure in front of her.

It was Finn.

He was running, he was running really, really fast; so fast Quinn really did not think that they were going to be able to stop him in a million years.

And then Brittany came out of nowhere with Kurt's oversized manbag, she opened it just to the side of the field.

BANG.

Lord Tubbington in all his glory shot out from the bag and tore directly towards the boys as they ran in line with Finn.

Shocked; Finn dropped the ball.

Quinn watched in nothing short of confusion, as Santana skipped passed Brittany and grabbed the ball, she took off down the field, running as the boys tripped over Lord Tubbington rolling between their legs.

And then,

TOUCHDOWN.

The girls had won.

There was nothing else to do.

Quinn burst out laughing.


	26. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25**

High School, Junior Year

_There are a lot of things that get in the way of showing someone you love them_

* * *

><p>The rain had set about over the weekend. The clouds had rolled in, swirled for the afternoon and then settled in for the rest of the night. They covered the sky in a darkened grey blanket, so by the time the stars were due to come out, the night sky was so thick, you simply could not see them. Then the rain had started, softly at first, like small little pitter-patters against the window sill; and then as it had continued, it had become louder, sloshing down the drain pipes and spilling water from the gutters. Quinn had arrived at Rachel's house, completely drenched, shivering and in need of a new sweater.<p>

In light of Quinn needing to strip and change, Rachel had never been happier.

It's funny how some people in your life can say the smallest things; just one sentence and it can change the way you think or feel in an instant. Small little words sometimes either break you or make you fall so deeply in love.

"Why do you love me?" Quinn asked staring at Rachel.

Rachel lifted her eyes from where she had been scribbling answers into her father's crossword; the sky had been glowing every few minutes as the lightning streaked across it, cutting through the clouds like knives do when slicing cheese.

"I have no idea," she responded.

There was a glint in her eye, the same one that brightened every time she would want just to stir Quinn.

Quinn bit her lip slightly.

"That," Rachel said, and Quinn frowned.

"What?"

"I love when you bite or lick your lips, because you're nervous or annoyed or you want me; or all three,"

Quinn smirked, "You just like my lips Rachel Berry? I knew you were just using me for your own sexual advantages,"

Rachel abandoned the crossword puzzle, and crawled along the floor towards her, pushing Quinn over and sliding on top of her, god when Rachel took control like this.

"Absolutely 100% accurate," she whispered, running her tongue across Quinn's lips.

Quinn trembled softly under her touch.

"Mmmm," Rachel grinned, "I love this," and she pressed her finger into the crevice of Quinn's collarbone.

"I love your eyes," and she kissed the tops of Quinn's eyelids.

"I love your hands," and she slid her palm against Quinn's.

Rachel stopped kissing her briefly, because she could tell Quinn was nearly ready to pass out. She was so drunk on Rachel.

"I love your strength," she said, locking Quinn's eyes, "I love your defiance, your humbleness and when you bitch slap Amber with your words, because you're head Cheerio, not her,"

Quinn gritted her teeth at the mention of Amber's name, "God baby you're meant to be turning me on not off,"

Rachel smirked, "I just love you Quinn, I just really, really love you,"

Quinn ran her hands down Rachel's spine, gripping her tiny waist and pressing her harder against her, grinning between Rachel's kisses.

"You are no one's, but mine… always," she replied and Rachel kissed her harder.

Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to be playing _heavy make out session_ on Rachel's fluffy rug, in the middle of her Dads living room.

Because the rug felt so _fucking_ good

Her Dads could probably walk in at any second

And

c) The whole idea of being caught at any moment, was turning them both on so much, Quinn didn't actually realise when Rachel had managed to slip her hands under the sweater Quinn was wearing.

The more Quinn became familiar with Rachel's body, and how it felt with hers, the more she began to realise that being with a girl, or being with a boy, isn't about how their bodies look, it's about how yours _feels_ with theirs. It was like electricity that surged through Quinn's body every time Rachel touched her, she would tremble every time Rachel trailed her lips from Quinn's and decided to plant them along her neck, or her collarbone, or sink them into her chest. Sometimes she could get so lost, the air would leave her brain, and she really would be like a small red balloon floating away into the stars.

"Quinn" Rachel said suddenly, interrupting Quinn's elation, "When are we going to have sex?"

Quinn nearly choked on air, "What?"

"Sex, Quinn, I want to have sex with you,"

And then everything just drained from Quinn's mind and she went into auto pilot.

"Smalls, that's a really big step,"

God Quinn was petrified of that word; she had used it so carelessly in the past; until one day suddenly that word became the reason for all the confusion in her life. Right now, it was still a word she was petrified of.

"But being with you that way means I get to show you how I feel,"

"Rachel," Quinn reasoned, "You don't need to have sex with me to show me how you feel, I know how you feel even when you just look at me,"

"But don't you want to make love in the middle of the night and then wake up together?"

God how was someone of their age supposed to look at it like that.

Puck didn't.

He just jumped at Quinn the moment she said. _'Take my shirt off'_, her skin crawled just thinking about it.

"Rachel, I want you, I really want you, but I'm not ready for that, please can you wait for me?"

Rachel seemed to think a moment, before her eyes trailed over Quinn's lips, "You're scared aren't you,"

Rachel knew. She knew everything Quinn felt and she didn't need to specifically say it.

Quinn nodded in response.

"Fives," Rachel said, brushing her nose against Quinn's, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to, remember what you told me in the back of the car? Do whatever feels natural?"

Quinn grinned, "I love the backseat of your car,"

Rachel rolled her eyes, "I'm trying to make you feel better,"

Quinn kissed her, "I know you are, and you do, I promise,"

Rachel went to say something; that was until the front door was burst open and her Dads walked into the house with the umbrella blown out backwards, and Hiram yelling about his hair.

Leroy froze in the doorway as he saw them tangled amongst the rug.

"RACHEL BERRY!" he shouted.

Rachel sheepishly crawled off Quinn, "Daddy, I swear it's not what you think! We were just practising planking!"

"On top of each other?" Hiram retorted and Rachel blushed.

"Leroy, Hiram, I swear we weren't going to do anything!" Quinn replied, crawling to her feet, although now that she stood up they both must have realised she was wearing one of Rachel's sweaters.

"Both of you upstairs now," Hiram said, "Quinn the storms too bad for you to drive home, but you both can go to bed early,"

"Dad I'm seventeen?" Rachel complained.

"Both of you upstairs now!" Hiram instructed.

Rachel grumbled before gathering up their notebooks and pulling Quinn up the stairs.

"We'll be having a discussion Rachel!" Leroy called after her, and then he turned to his husband. "Sweetheart, may I just point out that as punishment, you just sent them both to Rachel's room, and told Quinn to sleepover…."

Hiram thought on this a moment, "I knew I had something backwards…"

* * *

><p>Before Quinn had tried out to be on the Cheerio's, she had read on the back of the audition leaflet that '<em>A good cheerleader is not measured by the height of her jumps, but by the span of her spirit'<em>. Then she had auditioned in front of Sue Sylvester with Santana and Brittany to only have Sue scream into the megaphone that they looked like _'sloppy freak show babies'_. Since then she'd learnt a lot about what it was, to be a cheerleader. The Cheerio's seem to have their own vocabulary. When they say words like "banana", "pretzel", "liberty" and "table top", chances are, they're not discussing fruit, food, freedom, or furniture. These words are code for their motions, jumps, and stunts.

At McKinley High, if you're a Cheerio, you're always popular, but what everyone seems to fail to realise, is that what they do, is actually much more, it's a sport, with its own vocabulary.

"I want you to remember Spirit Fingers!" Kurt said fanning himself with the brochure that he'd picked up from outside.

"Kurtastical," Santana reminded, "Stop thinking that _Bring It On_ is how we do things, we're The Cheerio's we have our own style,"

"I'm so nervous," Quinn muttered.

"Q, you got this," Brittany smiled rubbing her back, "We get through regionals and we're a sure bet for nationals,"

"I know but they've made them so close together…" she replied.

"Yeah," Santana retorted, "Because the judges got mono when regionals were supposed to be held,"

"Just remember it's all about Spirit," Rachel quipped and she kissed Quinn's cheek, "You're spirit is my favourite," she whispered, and Quinn watched as she pried Kurt's hands away from the spray on glitter, to drag him into the stands.

Quinn could hear the crowd outside, as she nervously waited backstage with the rest of the girls. Regionals weren't as big as Nationals, but even so they were always held in these huge arenas, with a mat in the centre, a judging panel to the right and surrounded in rows of seats, that pushed up into the stands. This arena was fairly open, although you could tell they were having renovations done on the roofing.

The lights were being supported by timber beams held up by pillars and wires; it made Quinn nervous to think they could come down, even though the sponsors of the whole thing had assured that unless something extraordinarily heavy ploughed into them at some rapid rate, they were not coming down.

"Okay short skirts, you better kick ass out there,"

Quinn turned to see Coach Sylvester march towards where they had been stretching, "I've got an arch nemesis sitting on the judging panel,"

"You mean that news reporter guy?" Quinn asked.

She eyed her, "Just focus Q," she replied and she blew her whistle, which was completely unnecessary and it just nearly deafened them.

"Call it in girls," she said and they huddled around her.

"On the count of three," Quinn shouted and she saw Amber staring at her with this uneasy glare.

"1, 2, 3 CHEERIO's!"

Normally they had practised their routines so much over the school year, that when it came to major competitions and events, they knew them like the backs of their hands, they knew them so well they would be able to ignore the crowds, ignore all the judges eyes on them, and just do what they loved to do.

Dance and perform.

This felt different though.

There was something wrong.

Quinn could feel the disunity from the moment she stepped onto the blue mat.

Sue Sylvester was renowned for her incredible stunts, if you wanted a show; it was usually the McKinley Cheerio's that brought it. Everything went to plan in the first ten minutes of the routine. All the girls had been on perfect form, and Brittany never seemed to cease to amaze the crowd with her immaculate summersaults across the mat, her legs were prefect and it was all Quinn could do not to laugh as Santana tried to keep her cool.

But then the pyramid happened.

Everyone was in position; it formed exactly the way it should, with Quinn on top.

The judges were impressed, the crowd was impressed. Sue seemed satisfied.

Then it happened.

It happened so quickly, none of the girls knew what was going on other than the fact they were all sprawling to the ground. Amber had reached and stuck something in the side of Quinn's arm, it felt like this angry prick, like she had just jabbed her with a thorn. Quinn lost her balance, so did the girls beneath her, and then the whole pyramid fell. Amber obviously had not calculated for the fact, that this arena had pillars supporting the light beams above them, pillars that were only joined with wiring.

Five of the girls hit that wiring, causing it to shift, and the timber beam above them broke away and fell.

The girls scattered. Quinn pushed Becky out of the way, before one of the lights shattered to the ground just left to them.

There was a scream and eruption as the crowd witnessed what was going on.

Quinn whirled at the sound of that scream. It had been Brittany's.

When you watch something happen to one of your friends, your body does this thing, where it goes into a few micro seconds of shock, as though your brain can't actually believe what your eye's were witnessing.

The timber pillar had crashed down, and landed directly on top of Santana. She hadn't had time to move, she hadn't had any time to reach for anything, or roll away, or do anything to protect the timber from colliding with her head.

She fell like playing cards and dominoes across the mat.

Half the girls were already running towards her, but none of them had been as quick as Brittany.

"Get it off her!" Brittany screamed and using strength Quinn didn't even know she had, she managed to clear the pillar off her girlfriend.

"Santana," Quinn yelled, snapping back into whatever reality that was on right now, "Santana!"

"Oh god," Brittany cried, "Don't do this," she bundled Santana into her arms searching for anything that said she was still breathing "Please! Someone get help!"

There were too many people, half the crowd was pushing through to see the commotion, where was Coach Sylvester? Where were the adults? Why wasn't Santana moving?

"Get an ambulance," Quinn was yelling at the other girls, "NOW!"

She fell to her knees beside them, Santana sprawled across the floor. Blood was pulsating from her forehead, streaking through her hair, dripping down the side of her face.

"Santana open your eyes now," Brittany pleaded.

Quinn grabbed her wrist, where were you supposed to push to hear a heartbeat? Why wasn't she moving, please move, please just move.

There was too much yelling, to many cries asking if she was okay, and then suddenly Coach Sylvester was beside them.

"Brittany you need to let go, we need to keep her flat on the ground, head injuries are serious Brittany,"

Brittany wasn't listening, she was sobbing into Santana, begging her to just open her eyes.

"Brittany, I need you to listen to me now," Coach Sylvester was instructing.

Quinn had never seen her like this, she had never seen her so concerned, like something had just happened to one of her cubs and she needed to try and find a way to fix the problem.

"Santana please," Brittany said again, "Santana please, I love you"

They say that when a life is threatened, you can feel your heart in your ears, you can feel it beating faster and louder because all your senses kick into overdrive. Quinn could feel the sweat on her brow, she could feel the tears stinging the corners of her eyes, the lump as it had caught in her throat, the stinging of the carpet burns beneath her knees from where she had skidded to reach them, she could hear the whispers of strangers asking if she was dead.

No, she couldn't be, this wasn't happening; this was all some dream, some nightmare.

Have you ever been put in the situation where you just wanted one more conversation with someone who meant so much to you? One more conversation to go through all the things that you should have said, but always took time and moments for granted to actually say them. You could spend the rest of your life counting the days, but none of them would ever warrant or amount to that one conversation you just wish you had back. Quinn wanted to tell Santana how much she had grown, how much she had become this person with a soul, this person that was so loyal to her friends even in moments where she could have turned her back. The trembling began then, Quinn started shaking so much and she couldn't stop.

One thing made the shaking stop though.

It had everything to do with seeing Santana slowly groan and her eyes flutter open, "My head," Santana whimpered.

Brittany was still weeping, she raised her eyes in silence to the ceiling above them and she whispered _thank you_.

"I love you," she sobbed, cupping Santana's face and kissing her.

"Santana lay still please," Coach Sylvester was now saying and suddenly the entire arena came flooding back in rushes of shouting and bodies moving.

"The ambulance is almost here Santana," Quinn murmured, and even though the whole thing had been less than three minutes, it had felt like a whole lifetime.

Something fell into her, gripping her as tightly as possible and kissing her cheek. Quinn realised in relief that Rachel had managed to fight her way through the crowd.

"Smalls," she whispered, clutching her.

Kurt was by her side in seconds too, "What happened?" he demanded and he rounded on Coach Sylvester, "Is this what your teaching? Catastrophes? I will take legal action against you on behalf on my lady…"

Santana managed as smile, "Kurtastical…" she muttered.

"Stop talking Mr Hummel," Sue replied and she directed her attention to Becky, "Bring me towels for Miss Lopez, Becky".

Quinn could hear the tone in her voice. Sue was addressing everyone by their last name; this meant that she had genuinely just had the shock blown out of her.

Rachel tore off her sweater, "Apply pressure," she instructed and Brittany immediately placed the sweater to Santana's bleeding forehead.

"That was your favourite," Quinn whispered kissing her.

"San is more important," Rachel replied, her eyes still on Santana and Brittany.

"I love you," Quinn whispered, and suddenly Rachel was gasping again.

"Quinn!" she reasoned, grabbing her arm, "Quinn, why the hell is there pins in your arm?"

Quinn immediately looked to her arm, her eyes widening as she saw two shiny pins caught in her flesh, and then suddenly she felt queasy.

"Get them out!" Kurt said hurriedly and he reached down and removed them from Quinn's arm.

The small little dots trickled the slightest drops of blood.

"Quinn," Rachel said angrily, grabbing her, "Who the hell put pins in your arm?"

Quinn immediately looked at Brittany, whose face said everything they both already knew, they were going to kill Amber.

* * *

><p><em>Later that week<em>

Once upon a time Quinn believed that if you tried really hard, you could feel the world's emotions coming through with the sunlight in her open bedroom window. Usually if you stretched your fingertips out far enough, you could trap these emotions in your palm and hold onto them really tightly. If you held onto them as tightly as you possibly could, you might have found the happiness and contentment that you were searching for. Quinn would lie on her bedroom floor, her headphones in her ears listening to _Michael Jackson_ and sometimes reading _The Perks of being a Wallflower_ and she had never been more faithful in the world's emotions than ever before. As she got older she thought that maybe happiness, love and hope can be seen in every molecule that exists, if we just look hard enough. If she really wanted to, she could believe that maybe this was the universe's way of telling us, that these emotions really do exist, and they're shown in the magic of a beating heart, the inhaling of oxygen and the life inside you. Sometimes these feelings don't last that long, sometimes they get replaced with feelings that you don't like or you don't want, but at least you know that those good feelings are always there. Whenever you need them, you just have to search for them, even if it takes a while for you to find them; at least you know they still exist.

Losing at regionals had left her squad in a state of disarray. This was the first nationals The Cheerio's had not been included in for seven years. Needless to say Coach Sylvester had gone into depression mode, practices had been called off and they'd been asked not to wear the uniform because it made her feel too ashamed.

Quinn didn't really care about anything, other than the fact Santana had been given the all clear by the doctors, and Amber had gotten what was coming to her.

"I look like an idiot," Santana sighed, and she fell back into her locker with a thud.

"Baby, Amber_ g_ot suspended for what she did, she can't get you," Brittany said leaning into her and taking her hands, she kissed each of them.

Quinn tilted her head to look at Santana, "Britts right San, she did this, who cares if you have to wear that bandage for a while, you'll be fixed in no time,"

Santana huffed, still not convinced and clearly self-conscious about the way she looked. Suddenly Rachel appeared beside them, and Quinn frowned at the bright pink bandage wrapped around her own head.

"Rach?" she said frowning.

Rachel smiled, "Well I just figured if I wore a fluro pink bandage, it might take the attention away from Santana, pink is more noticeable than white,"

Santana immediately reached out and hugged her.

"Q," she said, "Don't ever let this little thing go,"

Quinn grinned, grabbing Rachel, "You're amazing" she murmured.

"It's kind of like a headband," she whispered and Quinn laughed.

Thank god the day had wound down and all they had left was Glee Club, she was so sick of all the taunts from the football players about losing their regionals, because they had won theirs.

"Nationals is next week guys," Mr Schuester said, handing out the sheet music, "And I've decided that we're doing original songs!"

Quinn looked up immediately, "Original songs?"

"Yes!" he beamed, "It'll set us apart from the rest of them, I think!"

"What are we meant to sing about?" Puck asked.

"How about we do a rendition of girls are better football players?" Mercedes chimed.

"How about we won our game?" Finn replied.

Quinn rounded on him angrily, "Yeah well why don't you try getting hit in the head with a beam?"

Finn glared at her, "I believe Santana took that fall Quinn, you can't take hits can you?"

Rachel turned from where she had been scribbling notes, "Finn, if you want to leave Glee Club, then just go. I am so sick of the comments, I'm with Quinn, and you either deal with that, or you leave, because I don't want you here if you are going to say nasty things to her, it hurts me too much,"

Quinn melted, she wanted to just kiss her.

It shut him up though, because he folded his arms and leant against the back wall, tilting the chair so he could lean backwards.

"Fine," he muttered, "How do we write songs?"

"With passion!" Mr Schuester replied and he drew a question mark on the board.

"What makes you passionate?"

"Santana's sweet lady kisses!" Brittany called.

"Tots!" Mercedes yelled.

"Manbags!" Kurt quipped, "Big enough for Lord Tubbington's transportation," he added and Brittany beamed.

"I still have that damns cat's hair on my uniform!" Puck whined.

"Puck, that's because after we found him again, you decided you wanted to spend fifteen minutes cuddling him," Tina reminded.

Puck grinned, "He's very huggable,"

Brittany nodded in agreement.

"Guys!" Mr Schuester interrupted, "You're losing focus!"

"Mr Schue," Artie reasoned, "I don't think any of us have actually sat down and written our own songs before.

"Artz is right," Santana agreed, "We don't know how to do it,"

"Here's the first step," Mr Schuester responded, "You write down the things that make you feel and the things that inspire you,"

They seemed to stare back at him with puzzled expressions.

"Okay guys, here's the deal, over the next few days, whatever inspires you, I want you to write it down, and then next lesson we're going to start formulating songs,"

"Mr Schue," Mercedes asked, "Do you think we have a chance at winning?"

He grinned at her, "Of course I do,"

**. . .**

Quinn pulled on Rachel's bottom lip with her teeth, and then shifted to kiss her harder.

"Quinn," she whispered.

"Shhhh" she murmured, "Talking equals not kissing,"

"But I have something to tell you,"

Quinn stopped toying her tongue with Rachel's, and lifted her head slightly, "It better be important,"

"My Dads said I could go to Greece with you,"

Quinn's stomach flipped, "As in officially?"

"Daddy organised his flyer points yesterday and Dad got me a great big Liza Minnelli size hat to go sun bathing,"

Quinn snorted attacking her lips again, "Don't ever say sun bathing again," she teased.

"This means you'll have to tell your parents,"

Quinn stilled, "Rachel, I thought you said you would let me do that in my own time?"

Rachel ran her hands through Quinn's hair, "Just a suggestion," she whispered, and she allowed Quinn to continue to kiss her.

"Fives,"

"What?"

"I like when I'm underneath you, you're like my own personal blanket,"

Quinn melted.

"Smalls, you have to stop saying these things, or I will never be able to pry my lips away from you,"

Rachel grinned, kissing her gently, "Good,"

Once upon a time, there was a little boy, who gave the girl he loved twelve roses. Each was burning red, beautiful, all completely blossomed and full.

"_There are eleven real ones"_ he said as he kissed her forehead.

"_And the last?"_ she asked.

"Is not," he replied.

"_Why so?"_ And she frowned.

"Because," he said simply, "I will love you until the last one wilters,"

Maybe that's what love is supposed be, something that can never die, something that stays full and in bloom for eternity.

"I love the way you look at me Quinn,"

Quinn levelled herself, just so she was hovering above her again, "How do I look at you?"

"Like you love me,"

"Because I do love you," she smirked.

"Yes but no one has ever looked at me the way you do,"

Quinn kissed her nose, "and no one ever will,"

The best thing about Rachel's bed was that when Quinn was between her, they could sink into the pillows, like they were in the ocean or floating on clouds.

It was a slow rhythm, a game between lips, teeth and tongues, with hands that were now allowed to wander, and lips that dared each other to mark places that had never been marked before. Sometimes the tension was too much, sometimes Quinn just wanted to rip all Rachel's clothes off, and other times the moments were too fragile; she knew if she made any sudden movements, the moment could be over.

Gently, Quinn trailed kisses down Rachel's neck, she moved past her collarbone, gripping Rachel's t-shirt and sliding it up her torso. She pressed her lips to Rachel's stomach, circling the outer ring of her belly button with her tongue, like you would if you were following the rings around Saturn.

She found her scar, pressed her lips to it, kissed it as though she was removing any of the pain it may have caused Rachel in the past. She didn't want to think anymore, and granted there weren't really any thoughts in her brain right now, other than how good Rachel's skin felt, how good she tasted, she always smelt like butter and autumn and everything that just made Quinn's heart rate increase.

Quinn curled her finger under the elastic of Rachel's pants, smirking at the small but adorable noise uttered from Rachel's mouth above her.

She pulled on the top of Rachel's pants, sliding them further so she could move her lips over Rachel's skin. Her body was already covered in Goosebumps. Whatever voice had always told her not to go lower was gone, as Quinn continued to move Rachel's pants down her legs. There was underwear, that Quinn wanted gone, but she would have to work out that part later, because so far she had removed Rachel's pants perfectly, and now she just wanted to steal kisses from her lips before she went back to whatever was going to happen.

Quinn loved the way her mouth fit with Rachel's, she loved the way every time she turned, Rachel would turn too, and it meant they could just end up kissing for hours.

She could kiss her for always.

Quinn's hands were on an expedition of their own, they'd already somehow managed to clasp Rachel's bra, which was now loose and coming away from her body and slowly they'd crawled down Rachel's torso, asked permission from the elastic of her underwear for entry and were now playing between the folds, like they had done so their whole life.

Rachel clearly did not seem to object.

Objection though, was something fate cruelly had in mind, as her door was opened, there was a shout and the laundry that Hiram had been carrying was suddenly flung in their air as he clumsily stumbled back out from the room. He clipped his elbow on the doorframe in the process and yelled again in annoyance.

Quinn had already leapt from Rachel, like she was now some grenade Quinn had been stupidly playing with.

"Oh my god," Quinn stammered, grabbing her jacket and throwing it over her, even though her clothes hadn't been removed, maybe an extra jacket would just make up for things.

"Rachel Berry!" Hiram said from outside the door, "This is not the playboy mansion,"

Rachel was clearly annoyed. She hurriedly scrambled to pull her pants back over her legs, and then attempted to do her bra back up.

"Baby, you're so good at undoing that now," she complimented.

Quinn groaned, "Smalls!"

"Rachel you better be dressed!" Hiram yelled again, "Leroy where's the holy water?"

"Dad!" Rachel moaned, "I'm seventeen!"

"You should be thirty!" he huffed.

"I should have a lock!" she responded, kicking up off the bed.

Quinn literally wanted to die of embarrassment. Again.

* * *

><p>Santana winced as the curtains came tumbling down, in a mix of purple and metal rods.<p>

"_Usted __molesto __pedazo__de __mierda!"_ she groaned, stepping down from the stool.

"Baby, your mum is going to kill you," Brittany replied, "But you're still meant to be on bed rest,"

"Bed rest if for people who didn't just have chocolate fight in their kitchen and stained their mother's really expensive curtains," she responded.

Brittany looked at them, "But San, you can still see the stains?"

Santana huffed again, "That's not the point,"

Quinn looked up from where she had been wiping the rest of the chocolate from the bench, "San, I just wanted to make you a cake, it's not my fault your girlfriend thinks it's funny to throw icing,"

Brittany grinned, "But it was fun,"

Santana smirked, "It was,"

This was the most amount of time they had spent just the three of them in ages. Just together, laughing at things they always had, laughing at each other, saying stupid things, being young, without anything in the way. This was the time when Quinn needed some advice from the best friends she'd had all her life.

Quinn cleared her throat, "Santana, how do you have sex with a girl?"

Brittany started choking on her ice tea, and Santana literally just dropped the curtain rod again.

They both stared at her.

"Come again?" Santana asked.

"Yes please," Brittany replied, looking at her.

"No baby, not you," Santana smirked, "Q, can you repeat your question?"

"I want to make love to Rachel, but I don't know how to, what's sex like between girls?"

Santana's face broke out into this huge grin and instantly Quinn flushed, "goddamit I knew I should have just used Google!"

"Google is helpful," Brittany quipped.

"Yeah," Santana responded sarcastically, "Then why did you insist you got your knowledge from watching _Cruel Intentions_?"

"Oh _Sarah Michelle Gellar_," Brittany murmured, her eyes glazing over.

"Quinn," Santana replied, ignoring her, "What's this about? Are you going to have sex with Rachel?"

"I don't know," she replied running her hands through her hair, "Rachel wants to, but I don't know if I can, like I don't know what to do,"

"Pretty much the same thing you're already doing without clothes," Santana shrugged.

"Having no clothes, is so much more fun," Brittany grinned.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "If either of care to realise, Rachel and I haven't really done anything, we always get caught,"

"So make sure you don't get caught?" Santana said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

Quinn's face seemed to say it all.

"Oh Q," Santana laughed, hopping over to her and dragging her into an embrace, "Just don't think about it, what happens, will just happen,"

"Yes but didn't you and Britt plan?"

Brittany snorted, "God no,"

Santana nodded, "We were at a drive in movie, and it was this really old black and white film, and the moonlight and Brittany…" she trailed off, "God I'd never wanted you more,"

Quinn now realised she was staring at Brittany, still hugging Quinn, but none the less staring at Brittany.

"You did it in public!"

Santana made a face, "It wasn't like that," she protested, "It just happened,"

Brittany hopped off the chair to come and stand on the other side of Quinn, "You worry too much Q," she said softly.

"Rachel loves you, just know that, and go with it,"

Quinn nodded, maybe she should go buy that lock herself.


	27. Chapter 26

Oh hi Little Readers !

Your marriage/date proposals either on tumblr or in the reviews are cute :p

If you'll play crash bandicoot video games with me and make me waffles then I'm yours! I'll take you star gazing and tell you about the constellations?

Three things:

1. Yes I will make Quinn dye her hair pink for a little bit (Dianna Agron + season 3/Beth/Puck… so many feelings!)

2. What do you prefer? Kurt with Blaine or Karofsky?

3. What do you want to happen when Fives and Smalls go to Greece?

Talk to me guys! You've been quiet!

belikecourtney (twitter)

itsonlyyforever (tumblr . com)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 26<strong>

High School Junior Year

_Sometimes in the midst of loving someone, you can forget that someone else loves them too_

* * *

><p>There's an author, you may have heard of him, you may have not, but he wrote one of Quinn's favourite stories.<p>

'_The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn'_ by Mark Twain.

It's not a story for most people, in fact there's some parts that you sit and wonder, why on earth did he design the chapter that way? But there's something that Mr Twain said, that Quinn would always remember, he said that 'the difference between the right word and _nearly_ the right word is the difference between a lightening bug and lightening'.

Maybe a great song is defined by as much of what the lyrics don't say as to what they do.

"I am not a poet!" Santana moaned, scrunching up the piece of paper and throwing it across the kitchen table.

Arthur peered at her over his glasses, "Santana what rhymes with love?"

"Dove," she muttered distracted by trying to rip another page from Rachel's star shaped notebook.

"Well there you go," he grinned.

Quinn rolled her eyes at her grandfather, "Pop, that doesn't count; we have to come up with three original songs for Glee Club before the week is out,"

He scratched his chin, "Well you all love music? It shouldn't be that complicated right?"

Rachel huffed, "Arthur, that's just like asking you to design your own chess board and chess pieces,"

Quinn's grandfather roared with laughter, "Miss Berry, I _did_ make my own chess board!"

Rachel flushed red.

"Come," he said, waving his hand, "Give me some paper,"

"Are you going to write our songs?" Brittany asked hopefully.

Arthur shook his head, "A musician is only as good as the ideas he first comes up with, you three ladies can write a song, I know you can, but I will help you brainstorm,"

Brittany's shoulders slumped slightly.

"Now," he said, "What's the first idea?"

"Headbands," Rachel shrugged.

Arthur raised his eyebrows, "Headbands?"

Rachel nodded and opened her mouth,

_My headband_

_You're my headband_

_Wrapped right around my melon_

_You're a product like Magellan…_

Brittany started clapping, "You're my hero…."

Santana buried her head in her hands as Quinn's grandfather stared wide eyed at Rachel.

"Quinnie," he mused after a moment, "Where did you say you found this one again?"

Rachel groaned causing Quinn to smirk in response.

"Don't ask," Quinn responded.

"Ladies if I may?" he asked twirling the pen, "What is the one thing you four have in common right now?"

"We're going to lose at Nationals" Santana muffled through her hands.

"Incorrect," Arthur replied.

"We all like pussies," Brittany said.

Quinn's grandfather started choking on whatever breath he had inhaled at the particular moment she had said the sentence. Santana's head immediately snapped up to look at her.

Brittany looked confused, "But I thought you guys said you liked Lord Tubbington and his friends as much as I did?"

Quinn felt herself sigh, "Cats Pop, we all like cats…"

Arthur was grinning, "Of course," he said nodding.

Santana's mouth was still open.

"Anything else?"

"We all love Kurt?" Quinn shrugged.

Her grandfather heaved slightly; "I quite like Kurtis too, but girls come on!" and he threw his hands up in the air, "The one thing that makes you wake up in the morning, breathe through the day and go to sleep smiling?"

Something suddenly clicked and then Quinn and Rachel said it together, "We're in love,"

Rachel smiled at her nudging Quinn's foot under the table with her own.

Santana smirked, "Way to go for the soppy stuff Pops," she said.

"_Querida_," he reasoned, "When we love, we always strive to become better than we are," he picked up the pen again, "So therefore, when we're all striving to become better than we are, everything around us, slowly starts to become better too,"

Quinn tilted her head, "What does that mean Pop?"

"Well what do people normally do when they're in love?"

The four of them shrugged which caused his smile to widen across his crinkled face, "well they _light up the world_!"

* * *

><p>By the end of the school week, The New Directions had devised two songs, comprised each with music and allocated the melodies to whoever's voice best suited them. Quinn hated the fact Rachel was singing the main duet with Finn, but for the sake of Nationals she needed to keep her mouth shut.<p>

"Fives!"

Quinn turned from where she had been idly staring at the freshman's boarding the bus for the afternoon.

Rachel caught up to her, and planted her lips to hers.

"Hey you," Quinn smiled.

Rachel planted an envelope in Quinn's hand, "I wrote you again," she smiled.

Quinn looked down at it, "Baby you message, email, and talk to me… more letters?"

Rachel sighed, "I love your words Quinn, I love those the most,"

Quinn brought her closer, "I love _you_ the most,"

"Cedes is going up to Cleveland this weekend again, with San and Britts, to visit that dance studio… remember that time… when you didn't go?"

Quinn huffed, "Because I was confused over you…?"

"Well you're not confused anymore, so we should go, get away before Nationals?"

"Baby, we should be practicing for nationals!"

Rachel pouted, "Quinn, we have been grinding our vocal chords to the bone… in which vocal chords don't actually have bones, but if they did, they'd be worn down, let's just have a break? Just for one day…"

"You're so cute, you know that?"

"Answer me!" she demanded.

"Okay!" Quinn laughed, "We'll go!"

Rachel grinned, "I have a debate meeting, but I'll meet you back at your grandfather's?"

Quinn nodded, kissing her, and letting Rachel leave her in the car park again, she hated whenever Rachel left her. You know maybe it's not about how long you spend apart from someone. Maybe time and seconds or minutes and days or hours never amount to missing someone. Maybe missing someone is about every little second you just wish they were in your arms.

"Hey,"

Quinn jumped, hitting her elbow against her open car door and then realising that Finn was standing in front of her.

"Hi," she said slowly, she felt nervous just being in the music rooms with him, let alone face to face, with no one around, and no one watching.

"Ready for nationals?" he asked.

Quinn stared at him, "Sure," she replied.

"New York should be good, never been before…"

"Me neither," Quinn responded, "Finn what are you doing…?"

"Talking to you?" he asked, "Well we use to do it Quinn? Before you decided to steal my girlfriend,"

Quinn slammed the car door shut, crossing her arms, to face him front on, "Finn how could I have stolen Rachel when she was never really yours in the first place…"

"So you think by writing love letters to her means you know her? Means you get to just take her and keep her?"

Quinn bit her lip, "What are you trying to say Finn?"

He glared at her, his hazel eyes reflecting the colour of her car in the sunlight, "You've always done things in small gestures Q and you've never been one to just lay all your emotions on a table,"

Quinn had no choice but to stare back at him, search for the boy she'd grown up with, but that's just it, she didn't know who that was, she never had.

"You know I should have seen this coming, I should have picked up on it sooner,"

Quinn shook her head, "Well apparently I don't lay out my emotions Finn…"

"Rachel always told me that girls like you do that to keep power, but something even she failed to realise, is that you're completely powerless when it comes to her,"

Quinn stilled.

"Look at you Q,"

"Finn I…"

"She's got you hasn't she, Rachel broke down those protective walls,"

"YES," she all but shouted, "Yes okay Finn, yes, I said it, Rachel has me, she's got me so much I don't even know what to do with myself,"

His face was still full of betrayal. Like a puppy that had just been told its owner was going to return him to the window.

"Good luck Quinn, because heartbreak… heartbreak sucks,"

As Quinn watched him walk away, she racked her brain for any plausible reason as to what he meant by that.

* * *

><p>Everyone knows that song, the one that sings about New York being a concrete jungle where dreams are made. But what most people don't realise, is it's also a jungle of reality checks. Everyone dreams; but not all of those dreams come true. What happens then? Do you find a new dream? Or do you fight until your original dream comes true? Maybe that's the best thing about dreams, they shift and they grow as much as you do. Now when Quinn looks in the mirror, she doesn't see a girl who wants the quarterback boyfriend and the highest popularity count. She sees a girl who just wants to discover who she is, she sees a girl who wants to learn about the world.<p>

"We made it,"

Quinn smiled at Rachel, as she twirled in the centre of Time's Square. Mr Schuester had made them wait on the steps of their hotel, while he sorted out room keys and reception paper work.

New York City.

Perhaps there was too much to take in, within these exact moments. Perhaps the billboards that surrounded them, advertising all the wide known labels and brands, the small Broadway theatres tucked amongst the skyscrapers and the scattered office buildings were all just staring at them and thinking, '_more dreamers from a small city'_. The smell here was different; it smelt of steel, of clothes, of car exhaust pipes, of excitement, adventure, of hope.

"Quinn," Rachel said, pulling her away from the steps, "Quinn… kiss me,"

Quinn laughed, "Smalls, are you sure New York City is ready for that kind of action so early in the morning?"

"This is one of the most romantic cities in the world Quinn. Have you never seen _Across the Universe?_ Fall in love with New York Quinn, be in love with me in New York,"

"God Berry," Quinn said, stepping towards her, moving her away from the curb, because the cab drivers were far more mental than back home, "Who knew you were such a die-hard romantic,"

"Kiss me," Rachel said again.

Quinn leant towards her, lingering for a moment, just to watch that face of anticipation, just to keep her waiting for just that little bit longer because Rachel knew that Quinn would always just kiss her anyway.

Maybe that's the best thing about loving someone. To even love someone at all, is the secret of greatness. And maybe, just maybe, that could be the greatest secret in the universe.

Kissing Rachel, in the middle of Times Square, in the early morning sunlight, was Quinn's favourite kiss.

To date.

**. . .**

"Guys I want you to stay here and think up another number, because we have two and we need three," Mr Schuester said.

Mercedes howeled in anguish, "Schuester its sunny outside, we're in New York and you want us to all stay stuffed in here writing songs?"

He looked at them, "Yes?"

"Well that's just the most annoying plan ever," Kurt sighed.

Quinn wrapped her arm around him, "I bought you postcards," she whispered in his ear, and he grinned.

"You did not? You remember my secret postcard collection?"

"I remember everything about you," Quinn replied, "Always,"

Kurt squeezed her hand.

"A song guys!" Mr Schuester said again, "You have the afternoon and then I'll be back to organise dinner.

"and what will my abs eat prior till then?" Mike asked.

Mr Schuester leant across to the small table in the corner of the room and picked up a handful of mints, he tossed them at him.

"Song writing caps on thanks!"

There was a unaminous moan as he shut the door behind him.

**. . .**

There's a lot of the different ways you can interpret the idea that '_people don't change'_. From a scientists or doctors perspective, you can almost say it drives them a little crazy, because change is realistically the only thing that remains constant in the world of science. Morphine and Merging, Growing, living and dying, metaphysics and matter, it's always and constantly changing. What puzzles scientists, is the way people try _not_ to change; the way people sometimes cling to the things that once _were_, and not what they actually _are_.

Like how some people choose to cling to old memories, instead of creating new ones. Most people fail to realise that change is constant, instead they insist on believing that everything in this lifetime is permanent. It's not. Nothing ever stays the same. How we experience the change in our lives depends on what we do with it. It can feel like the worst feeling in the world, like death, like misery; or it can feel like a second chance.

All that's needed is to open our hands, loosen our grips on the permanency beliefs and just go with it.

If we do that, maybe it will feel like a second chance at life, maybe it will feel like being born all over again.

Quinn had spent the rest of the afternoon in the hotel room, writing songs with the rest of the Glee Club. Then everyone had begun to wind down and decided to grab dinner in the lobby downstairs. She had stared at Rachel over candlelight the entire time, until suddenly Puck had walked up to the table and asked if he could borrow Quinn for a few hours.

Puzzled she had agreed.

He had lead her into the streets of New York, as its neon lights beat down upon them, the crowds buzzed at every intersection and the blinking yellow cabs were like fire flies passing the streets. Puck hadn't said much, he'd spent most of the walk with his eyes on the pavement in front of them, his hands in his pockets, until they'd reached a dainty bar, just on the corner of Twelfth Avenue.

To Quinn's surprise the bouncer had nodded at Puck and let them inside.

"Puck, we can get into a lot of trouble for this, being underage, not to mention Nationals is tomorrow, we should be sleeping,"

"Quinn," he said, pushing the chair out for her to sit down, "Can you call me Noah tonight?"

Quinn stared at him, realising for the first time, he had put on a shirt, worn a thin black tie, and scrubbed clean his chin, leaving his face fresh and clean.

"I don't understand," she responded, sitting down in the chair.

She could smell musk in the air, but the bar felt warm, and the low hum of chatter would occasionally be drowned out with someone either drunkenly or superbly belting out a tune on the stage to the left.

"Just one night," he said, "I just want one night, to show you, that if our baby had of been born, I would have helped you look after it,"

"Puck…" Quinn said, "Noah…" she corrected after seeing his face fall, "It's been over a year, you don't need to do this…"

"Yes I do," he replied, "Rachel said it was the right thing to do," he paused for a moment, "I've never understood anything like what Rachel said to me the other day…"

Quinn's mind was racing, when was Rachel having talks with Puck? When was Rachel having talks with Puck about their pregnancy? When was Puck paying attention to Rachel?

"It made me realise how immature I was Q," he shrugged, "and how much I never understood you…"

He glanced at the musicians up on the stage, giving them a nod. They instantly moved positions on the instruments, adjusted the microphone, added a bar stool, and leant a guitar against the metal.

Pucks guitar.

"Rachel understands you though," he said, "I get why you love her now,"

Quinn didn't know whether to melt over his approval or inform him that she never needed his approval in the first place, but this was _Noah_ right now. This wasn't bad boy in and out of juvie Puck. This was Noah, the boy with gentle eyes and who played the guitar.

He inhaled slightly, "This next song is for you," he smiled, "and Quinn…"

Quinn glanced at him, trying to figure out what to do with her shaking hands, "If the baby had of survived, I think it would have been a girl. I would have called her Beth…"

Quinn stared after him as he made his way onto the stage. She watched as the lights turned a dimly lit blue, the crowd settled, mulling over their drinks, all the while glaring at Puck as he began to strum his guitar.

_Beth, I hear you callin'_

_But I can't come home right now_

_Me and the boys are playin_

_And we just can't find the sound_

_Just a few more hours_

_And I'll be right home to you_

_I think I hear them callin'_

_Oh beth, what can I do?_

_Beth what can I do?_

We've all be hurt haven't we?

At one time or another, no matter how young, no matter how insecure or sure of ourselves, a child or an adult, most of us have made the mistake of trying to run away from the past. The only thing is, and it might take us a while to realise, but no matter how far we run, the past has this way of always catching up to us. Quinn thought that maybe Noah was just wanting to make amends, that it had taken him all this time to finally deal with what had happened to him too.

As Quinn sat, surrounded by strangers swaying to Puck's soft melodic voice, she realised that maybe when we forgive, we are really dealing with the past in such a way, it means we don't have to run anymore.

**. . .**

Quinn walked beside Puck as he guided her through Twelfth Avenue. There was something about this city; it was almost like you could feel your own heartbeat through the walls of the buildings that surrounded you. Almost like the tattooed art across the brick and steel was trying to hide secret coded messages between people hurting as much as you.

"How do you know your way so well?" she asked though the air, "I don't even know where we are,"

He smiled slightly, "I guess when you've been lost for so long, and you find yourself, you can never really be lost again,"

He slipped his jacket from his shoulders and placed it around Quinn's.

"Can I ask you something?"

Quinn nodded, her eyes trailing the coloured lights as they bounced across the skyscrapers above them.

"Do you think Rachel would be able to look after you the way a man could? Do you think you could look after her, as well as what Finn could?"

Quinn stopped walking for a moment and glared at him.

"Q," he stammered, "I don't mean it like that, I just mean..."

Quinn shrugged, "I know what you mean," she said softly, "I've thought about it too…"

He stared at her through the night, his eyes shining from the light of the lamppost beside them.

"Noah, what do you think it takes to look after someone?"

He glanced up the side walk briefly, glazing his eyes over the buildings on either side of them, "I don't know, financial support I guess,"

Quinn bit her lip, "That's why you're different to Rachel, that's why Finn's different,"

He frowned.

"Noah, looking after someone is more than just anything physical, looking after someone means to hold their heart in your palm and promise to never it let go..."

"But Finn loves Rachel,"

"But Finn doesn't know how much Rachel believes in the sky, Finn doesn't know all the little pieces that make up Rachel and who she is..."

Puck shoved his hands in his pockets, "And you do?"

"I know more about Rachel than he ever will," she paused slightly, "Finn might know Rachel's outer shell, but Rachel gave me all her words inside and sometimes that counts for a lot more than anything else..."

"Sometimes I wish you hadn't lost the baby," he whispered.

Quinn felt the corners of her heart start to tick over, "Why?"

"Because I think I could have loved that baby, I think I might have had something to finally love. To really love..."

"Noah," Quinn said softly, "Are you growing up on me right now?"

He shrugged sheepishly, "Just having a moment I guess,"

Quinn sighed, "Well maybe when you're a grown up, we could try and be friends? Good friends?"

He smiled at her, "I'd like that Quinn,"

There was a moment of brief silence, as a passing street sweeper broke into the avenue and began trudging along the road. Quinn watched the huge revolving brushes as they dug into the gutters, tossing leaves and dust as they went, sweeping away whatever the day had left behind. Maybe that's why days turns into nights, so that while we're all sleeping, someone comes and sweeps away all that's been done in the day, to make room for something fresh tomorrow.

"Hey Quinn," Puck said again, as the sweeper moved north.

"Mmmm?"

"Can I say goodbye to the baby?"

Quinn didn't know whether him calling it a _baby _was a good thing or not, because that would mean that there really was a life inside her, a life that she lost, and Quinn didn't even know how that was supposed to change things.

"I didn't get to before," he said, and his eyes were so delicate in the light, it was like staring at a little boy, wanting to say goodbye to the Labrador he'd grown up with, before his parents put it to sleep.

"You can say goodbye," Quinn whispered, but she didn't know what that meant.

She watched tentatively as Puck reached and parted his jacket from where the sides met at Quinn's stomach, he pushed aside the cardigan she was wearing and Quinn felt the chills of the night air rush at her belly button. Ever so gently, he bent down and he placed the softest kiss to her stomach.

"Bye Beth," he whispered.

It took a while, maybe the entire walk back to the apartment block, maybe even up the hotel staircase towards the rooms; maybe even the nod goodnight to Puck, but eventually Quinn managed to stop the tears from falling.

She fumbled for the room key and cautiously pushed open the door, stepping into the room, she noticed three things. One, the bedside lamp had been left on, as Tina lay curled in the armchair, a notebook in her lap. Two, Santana and Brittany looked like tree roots intertwined, faces touching, limbs wrapped in each other, sprawled across one of the double beds. And three, Mercedes was asleep in the single bed; leaving Rachel curled asleep in the other one. Quinn stripped her cardigan from her body, and slipped it over the chair near the desk in the middle of the room.

She removed her shoes and changed into her pyjamas, even if she knew the sun would be rising in just a few hours. Gingerly, she tiptoed towards Rachel, and pulled back the covers, she was so soundly asleep Quinn didn't want to wake her. She slid into the blankets, sighing quietly because the blankets felt so warm and Rachel's breathing sounded so perfect.

Rachel stirred slightly, which caused Quinn to stop moving, _god stay sleeping baby_.

"Fives," she murmured without opening her eyes.

"Go back to sleep baby," Quinn whispered.

Rachel's eyes fluttered open slightly, "I was worried about you," she said drowsily, and she reached her hand toward Quinn's face.

Quinn trembled at Rachel's touch, "Lean closer," Rachel murmured.

Quinn leant into her lips, as Rachel kissed her.

"Now I can sleep properly," she smiled.

Quinn sunk into her, as though Rachel was the pillow she had been waiting all night for.

"Hold me," she barely managed.

Quinn felt Rachel's arms envelope her and suddenly she felt safe again. As though she'd come home from the past memories, to the ones that made sense right now.

"You_ can _hold me in your arms," Quinn whispered, as the tears found their way back to her eyes again.

She felt Rachel kiss the top of her forehead, her lips lingering there for more than a moment, "What makes you think that I wouldn't be able to?"

Quinn sniffled slightly, "Because your arms and my arms aren't as big as a man's,"

Rachel hummed slightly, sliding her hand up and down Quinn's back, running it along her spine,"When you love someone as much as I love you, our arms can stretch all around the world to reach that person,"

Quinn's heart skipped a beat.

"I'll never be able to _not_ hold you Quinn," she murmured, and Quinn squeezed her tighter, "You can stay in my arms forever if you want to,"

"Yes please," she murmured.

Being in Rachel's arms, was the safest thing in the world and as Quinn closed her eyes, it didn't matter what the world outside Rachel's arms was like, as long as she could retreat back into them, whenever she needed.

* * *

><p>Imagine a stage, as your platform to show the world who you really are. What would you have on the stage? What props? Who would be your cast mates? Would you be the lead or in the background?<p>

You know, if you spend your entire life focusing on what everyone else around you thinks of you, you might just forget who you are, you might just forget what the stage is supposed to look like.

If that happens, when the curtain is revealed, what's behind it?

You; or what _you_ think is you?

Vocal Adrenaline had brought the house down. That small power house rocket known as Sunshine had literally shattered everyone's hearts, including Rachel's. There was not a competitive bone in her body watching that performance, Quinn could see it in her eyes, it was one pocket rocket admiring another. Christ it made Quinn melt so much she had to grip Kurt's hand for support.

"Little B," Kurt had whispered, "You're cutting circulation!"

They say that when you're waiting to perform, it feels like forever, the minutes drag on like hours as you wait either pacing, practicing vocals or nervously hopping up and down on one leg. But then the performance happens and suddenly it's all over and the crowd is either on their feet or still in their chairs and its make or break.

_Light up the world_ caused everyone to stand on their feet. From the lights burning in her eyes, Quinn could see her parents sitting near Kurt's Dad. When they had said they were coming to see her perform it made her not as angry about Frannie and the wedding and Greece.

They were here weren't they? They were here for _her_?

But then she could see Leroy and Hiram, and Leroy had smiled up at her, and winked at her and it made Quinn just want them to be sitting next to _her_ parents.

The four of them, grinning up at their daughters and knowing that they were in love.

Why hadn't she told them yet? Why was she so scared to tell her parents she was in love with Rachel?

"Berrybox you get out there and you bring the house down," Santana said as the curtain had been drawn again.

Rachel glanced at her, "You too San," she smiled.

Quinn inhaled deeply, god she just wanted to be singing with Rachel right now, not Rachel with Finn.

"Fives?"

Even if it was just a whisper, that was her name, her name that was no one else's, Quinn's other name that was constructed out of Rachel's love of stars.

Quinn glanced up, staring at her.

"You light up my world,"

Quinn grinned, but before she could reply the curtain was lifted, the music had started, and her girlfriend's voice took control. There's a lot more to a performance than just singing, it's about the way you conduct yourself, how you connect with the audience, how you move, how the light shines over you, how everyone else sees the emotion flow through you, and how _you _feel the emotion flow through your own veins.

Rachel had this down to a fine art, and it was all Quinn could do to focus on her background melodies without just staring at her.

_Will we ever say the words we're feeling?_

_Reach down underneath and tear down all the walls_

Who's the one person who can tear down your walls? Who's the one person who walked straight up to you and said, hi, those walls needs to come down, show me who you are

_Will we ever have a happy ending?_

_Or will forever only be pretending?_

You want your happy ending don't you? You want to find it somewhere in the world? Everyone deserves it don't they?

_Will we always, always, always be_

_Keeping secrets_

_Every move we make_

Quinn didn't want to keep Rachel a secret from her parents anymore, pretending that she was just over for dinner and on study sessions. Hiding away at her grandfather's house, because she knew that was the place she could reach and kiss her, or hold her hand, without moving away.

_Seem's like no one's letting go_

_And it's such a shame_

It really is such a shame that some people in this world don't believe in all types of love.

Are you that person? Would you deny a person their right to love?

The musical interlude happened then, with just the piano and the flutes, it sounded so beautiful against the theatre they were in. It seemed to reach out a curl itself over all the seats and all the aisles, trailing the harmonies like waves over the shore. Rachel couldn't help it, when she was meant to be looking at Finn; she instead turned her gaze to Quinn. Her eyes said everything that Quinn wanted, freedom to show the world they were in love.

Then all of a sudden their moment came crashing back into them.

Finn grabbed Rachel, he grabbed her, turned her towards him, and he kissed her.

The only image Quinn saw was Finn engulfing the love of her life, and Rachel struggling to push him away.

In minutes Rachel had untangled him.

But the music had stopped, the air had frozen, and no one was swaying anymore. The lights seemed far more blinding than what they should be; the rest of her class mates had stopped singing.

Santana looked like she was ready to beat Finn's head in.

"Don't be with Quinn," he said, "Be with me,"

Rachel shot back; she shot back before Quinn could even coherently understand what was happening.

"I am in love with Quinn!" she said, "We're together and in love and you have to accept that…"

It was too late. The crowd had already been silent, Finn and Rachel's words had echoed through the microphones for the whole theatre to hear. Actions and words are like objects dropped from high places, like when you drop a stone from a cliff side, or your shoe from the top bunk, or a water bottle from an over passing bridge. You can drop these actions and words, but just like those objects, once they've dropped, you sure as hell can't revoke them. Even through the light Quinn could make out her parents faces, because in the entire arena, their jaws were the widest open.

"The curtain," Santana hissed, "Pull the god damn curtain!"

And just like that, the red material fell around them, blocking the sea of on-lookers from their vision. Blocking Mr Schuester, blocking all the other Glee Club competitors, and blocking Quinn's parents.

* * *

><p>P.S little readers, just quickly! when I put a grey line.. like that one ^^ it means a<strong> new day<strong> and when I put **. . . **it usually means same day, just a different time :)

that's probably the most irrelevant thing I've ever said... but anyway... have a nice day/night and... talk to me? I want to hear from you !


	28. Chapter 27

Little Readers!

First things first… dearest _Meso30180_… "why is the tyrannosaurs eating the jew?" I literally spat my tea all over the computer screen laughing… I had to publically announce this because I thought it was that funny.

Also guys, did the writers realise they rhymed Finn and Quinn? We should make t-shirts…

_Quinn for the win_

_Finn in the bin!_

;) hi my name's dork…

Happy reading as always!

Court

P.S as a side note, I'm really passionate about the fact that **love is love**, and every single person in this world should have that right, and feel safe in feeling the way they do towards whomever they choose. So I'm sorry if I get a bit carried away sometimes lol…

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 27<strong>

High School Junior Year

_The bubble bursts open and suddenly you're trying to find your way around the stage_

* * *

><p>The other week, when Quinn had been standing in the line at the supermarket checkout, a young girl had been talking on her phone. She didn't look that old, maybe a college graduate, maybe someone who worked full time, someone just like anyone else in the world. Quinn had stood in that line for nearly the duration of the girl's phone call, and right at the end she had laughed at the person she was speaking to.<p>

"_You really know how to get under my skin,"_ she had said.

When the girl had hung up, paid for her groceries and left, Quinn was left wondering something. That she had no idea who the person the girl had been speaking to.

Her mother or her father?

Her friend?

Her lover?

Her brother or her sister?

Whatever the case it made Quinn realise that maybe there's certain people in your life that can affect us so much, that they seep into our skin. They stay their then; they stay under our skin and run through our veins. Effectively, they then become a part of us.

"Who in the hell do you think you are!" Quinn yelled as soon as the curtain had been drawn.

"_Voy__a__dar__una__patada__en__las__bolas!_" Santana screamed at him, coming up behind Quinn, "You think you just place your Frankenstein lips on our Berrybox?"

Quinn looked at Santana with an eyebrow raised, "Quinn's Berrybox," Santana corrected.

"Rachel should be with me!" Finn replied.

Quinn gritted her teeth, "I swear to god Hudson, that's my girlfriend you were just face invading,"

Finn crossed his arms, "Rachel needs a leading man by her side, not a background vocalist,"

Quinn seethed, launching forwards, to which Santana and Kurt grabbed either side of her arms.

Rachel stormed over, "What Rachel needs is for you to stop dictating how I should run my life,"

Finn glared at her.

"Quinn knows me Finn, she knows me more than you ever have and ever will, so just stop yourself right now,"

"Rachel…"

"No!" she said angrily, "I said no!"

Quinn watched as she moved towards her, and Santana and Kurt dropped their grip, allowing Rachel to slide her arms around Quinn waist. Rachel leant and kissed her cheek gently, "Quinn is my girlfriend, and she's the only one I want right now,"

Thank god for Rachel's defiance, honestly, she was so sure of what she wanted, it made Quinn want to be better.

"FINN!"

They turned slightly as Mr Schuester entered through the side, "What were you thinking?" he demanded.

Finn groaned, "Mr Schue, I was in the moment!"

"That's not good enough," he reasoned, "This is a competition Finn; the judges would have thought that was too much. It was too personal; the crowd did not like it," Mr Schuester sighed as brushed his hands down his face.

"Quinn," he said, "I tried to speak to your parents, they want to see you immediately,"

Quinn felt her stomach nearly collapse.

"But you can see if we place in the top ten," he replied.

"Mr Schue" Kurt said worriedly, "You don't think this will cost us nationals do you?"

Mr Schuester glanced at Finn, "I would love to tell you no guys, but I just can't…"

"I WILL ends you!" Santana yelled launching forward, but Brittany had already come up behind her, she managed to steal Santana back into her arms before she'd even launched a metre forward.

"San," she said, "Remember our breathing practices? In and out… in and out…"

"I will destroy you," Santana snapped, "I will turn all your Finnish people against you,"

Finn frowned, "I was born here…"

"Escucha! Soy de Lima Heights Adjacents y yo tengo orgullo!. Sabes lo que pasa en Lima Heights Adjacents? Cosas Malas!," Santana yelled again, struggling against Brittany.

"Santana," Mr Schuester said, "Calm down!" He placed his hands on his hips and glanced around at his students, "I want everyone to meet me in the lobby in ten minutes, these things go quickly, we're see if we placed in the top ten in a few minutes,"

Quinn was still seething at Finn, "I can't believe you did that,"

"I can't believe you stole my girlfriend,"

Rachel huffed angrily, stomping her foot on the ground, she pulled on the collar of Quinn's shirt and yanked her forwards, fusing their lips together.

You know even in moments where it feels like you've been strewn out on the road for the whole world to sit and stare at you, someone will always be able to make the room stop spinning. Rachel did this, every time she kissed her. Every time Quinn tasted her, the whole world just froze, and the only thing her senses could absorb was Rachel.

She could taste her, she could smell her, she could feel her skin as her body pressed against Quinn's, she could hear her breathing, and see her soul.

Every single time.

Rachel pulled away before Quinn could even get her breath back.

"You see that?" Rachel demanded, "It doesn't matter how many times I kiss Quinn, she still makes my heart skip so many beats, I literally think I should call an ambulance,"

Santana tilted her head, "Damn Berrybox that was cute…"

Rachel ignored her, "Finn, we're over, please don't make this any harder than it has to be, I care about you, I really do, but my life without Quinn right now," she trailed her fingers down Quinn's arm, knotting her fingers with hers, "It wouldn't be a life…"

Quinn looked at Finn, standing with his shoulders slumped slightly, and part of her suddenly felt horrible.

What was that old saying? The one about putting yourself in someone else's shoes? Can you ever imagine being the '_other_' person? Have you ever been the '_other_' person? Maybe that's the biggest complication of the world, we're all searching for someone who is going to make us number one, who's going to make us the priority, the only thing we don't count on, is by that person moving us to the top of the ladder, whose the person who had to come down?

**. . .**

There are certain points in your life that you just want to close your eyes, and be told the answer in your own mind before anyone else knows.

As though you've predicted the future.

That way you will already know the outcome, so you have time to process this outcome. That when it does actually happen, you're already miles ahead of everyone else.

But that's wishful thinking isn't it.

There was a time, when Quinn had been about eight and she'd reached the finals in the local talent competition. Right before they'd announced the winner, she felt this turning in her stomach, like someone had pushed a button and suddenly her insides had become their own washing machine. They'd called her name though, as the winner, and the whole walk it took to get from her seat to the stage, she'd wondered if all that worrying had been worth it. She felt like that now, following Mr Schuester down the corridor towards where they had posted the top ten boards for the finals. Kurt was gripping her hand so hard she literally thought her fingers were going to start dropping off. Mr Schuester made them huddle in a circle.

"I think I might actually throw up," Tina said, "Just sayin…"

"Preach!" Mercedes responded bluntly.

Mr Schuester rubbed his hands together, "Whatever happens guys, just know I'm extremely proud of each of you and your efforts this year,"

"Yeah we love you too Mr Schuester, just move so we can see the results," Artie replied, wheeling forward.

Will grinned briefly, side stepping around another school group, as the _New Directions_ huddled around him.

Quinn craned her neck, trailing her eyes over the names that had been listed.

"They're not in order," Santana whispered beside her.

It didn't matter if they weren't in order, because Quinn's eyes had kept scrolling down the list of names and it was plain and simple, the _New Directions_ weren't on it.

"Mr Schue," Rachel said panicked "Mr Schue it's a mistake right?"

Mr Schuester rubbed his chin slightly, "They don't make mistakes guys,"

"No Finn does," Santana reared angrily, "We didn't even make the top ten!"

There was silence after that.

No one uttered another word, and Quinn felt exactly the way she did back in that talent show, wondering if all the worry and disappointment was ever worth it.

Most people react differently when they lose at something. Maybe your brother loses the final level on his favourite video game; and throws the controller. Maybe your Dad loses his job; and doesn't speak for a week. Maybe the girl you verse in your grand final tennis match comes to the net; and shakes your hand. People react in anger, people react with nothing to say at all and other people take it all in their stride.

Depending on how you count your losses, does that measure the type of person you are?

Do you pat yourself on the back and say there's always next time?

Santana had screamed at Finn the entire way from the theatre to the hotel, and was still screaming at him now that everyone had gathered in the conjoined hotel rooms.  
>Normally Quinn would tell her to stop and just leave it be, but Finn had kissed her girlfriend. If Santana had grenades, Quinn would be helping to throw them at him.<p>

She had avoided her parents completely, even though they had not stopped calling her. She didn't know what to do; she had no idea how to handle this.

"Santana," Puck said, "Give it a rest will you?"

"A rest?" Santana retorted, "We worked our asses off all damn year, and this giant tub of stupidity decides to ruin it all!"

"Finn… Rachel is Quinn's girlfriend," Tina said huffing from where she sat on the window sill, "That's just like Puck going up and kissing Brittany,"

Puck raised his eyebrows and glanced at Brittany, "Wanna?"

Santana threw a cushion at him, "I will kill you for even thinking about it,"

"I'm joking," he said ducking out of the way.

"I feel so robbed," Mike sighed, "What now, we go back to school as losers?"

"We've always been losers," Kurt responded, standing from where he had been sitting on the lounge next to Mercedes, "Now we just go back as national losers,"

The door opened before anyone could respond and Mr Schuester entered the room, he looked exhausted, as though he had just used all his energy trying to push back a herd of people.

"Quinn," he said, "You're parents are in the lobby, why didn't you go straight to them?"

Quinn shrugged, "Would you?"

Mr Schuester sighed, "They're frantic Quinn! I need you and Rachel to meet them in the lobby please,"

Quinn turned to him immediately, "Why Rachel? What does Rachel have to do with this?"

Mr Schuester's face said everything Quinn was hoping he wouldn't, "Because her fathers are downstairs too,"

Quinn wanted to throw up.

Have you ever tried to ride a skateboard on your stomach? You're lying horizontally with your limbs spread eagle wide like an aeroplane and then you just kick off, or maybe you've been rushing down a flight of stairs and you've missed a couple of steps, or you're leaning back on your chair at school and you miscalculate how far you can lean back without toppling over. Well, you have these long winding seconds in between the fall and the impact, and in those seconds you know you're most probably going to be hurt.

Now multiply those seconds by minutes, and then multiply them by the moments it took for Quinn to walk hand in hand with Rachel through the hotel corridor, down the elevator and into the lobby, and you might have some idea of how much the hurt was going to amount to.

"There you are!" her mother demanded, "Did we not insist you come meet us straight away?"

Quinn didn't know what to say.

"What are they talking about Quinn?" Russell asked, and Quinn realised that Leroy and Hiram were standing not even a few feet away, "They're saying Rachel is your girlfriend,"

"She is," Quinn replied flatly and she tried to ignore her parent's eyes as they widened.

"But Finn…"

"Finn kissed my girlfriend," Quinn responded, "He shouldn't have, but he did,"

"You're kidding," Judy responded, "Please tell me this is some high school prank you have going on,"

"I can assure you Mrs Fabray," Hiram piped up, "That our daughter doesn't take relationships as a joke,"

Judy rounded on him, "You two knew about this?"

Quinn felt Rachel hum softly, as though she was cursing her father for saying anything.

"The girls came to us," Leroy responded.

"And you didn't think a nice phone call to Quinn's parents might have been on the cards?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

"It wasn't up to us," Leroy retaliated, "Quinn needed to tell you in her own time,"

"Her own time? That being in front of an entire audience in New York City?" Russell demanded.

Leroy put up his hands, as if to say he didn't want an argument.

"I don't need this," Judy said sharply, "I came here to watch my daughter in her Nationals, to which they didn't even place, and now I'm being told she's a lesbian?"

"Can we not do labels Mum?" Quinn said angrily.

"Oh she speaks!" Judy shot back, "Well what is it Quinn, if you're not a lesbian now?"

"I'm just in love with Rachel," Quinn replied, "Call it that if you want, call it being in love with Rachel Berry,"

Judy seemed to shudder, which only made Quinn's stomach turn, god she'd never seen her mother look at her like that, not even through the pregnancy.

"You don't know what you want," Judy replied, "You're a kid for Christ sake,"

"I am fairly certain the girls have grown up a hell of a lot," Hiram offered.

"Grown up?" Judy cried, "The only thing my daughter has grown into, is one of your rainbow loving pieces of…."

"JUDITH!"

He came in through the rotating glass doors, flooded with the sunlight and for three seconds Quinn swore to god an angel had just arrived at the hotel.

He may as well have been.

"Arthur!" Rachel said automatically.

Quinn's grandfather, strode over, his coat billowing out from his sides.

"Dad?" Judy spluttered, "What the hell? Why are you…"

"You didn't think I was going to miss my Quinnie's performance did you?" he turned to Quinn, "You were marvellous," he beamed.

He reached into his pocket and made his way to Rachel, "As were you Miss Berry," he smiled and he handed her some mouth wash, "Clear the germs from the giant whackhead?"

Rachel giggled as Quinn stared at her grandfather with the most amount of admiration she'd had for anyone.

"Yes, honestly Rachel, what was Finn doing?" Hiram asked narrowing his eyes.

"I don't give a shit what Finn was going," Judy snapped, "What the hell is my daughter doing?"

Quinn felt her grandfather stiffen, "Sweetheart," he managed, "You calm down now, nothing gets sorted out with anger,"

Judy's eyes widened, "please don't tell me you knew about this,"

It wouldn't have mattered how her grandfather reacted, the truth had already spilt out into the lobby floors, just as Mr Schuester had found his way back again.

"Mr and Mrs Fabray," he reasoned, "How about you and I, and the Berry's go grab a coffee? Have a chat?"

"You've done enough," Judy snapped, "You didn't deliver my daughter back at the theatre and you condoned this relationship at school,"

"He's job is to teach, not to administer what the kids do in their private lives," Leroy interjected.

"Exactly," Judy retorted, "Teach good Christian morals,"

Quinn seethed, "Don't play the religion card mother, you don't even go to Church,"

"Judy we are more than happy to sit down and…" Hiram began, but she held up her hand.

"We're leaving," she said to Quinn, "Let go of Rachel's hand please,"

Quinn shook her head, her lips trembling as Rachel squeezed tighter.

"No," she whispered.

"We're leaving," Judy repeated, "So help me god Quinn,"

"Why don't we just calm down?" Mr Schuester said, stepping towards Quinn's mother.

"Do not tell me how to run my family," she spat.

"Judith, the young fella is not trying to tell you what to do," Arthur replied, wiping his hands down his rugged chin, his hairs were all grey; it was almost like he had dipped himself in a sugar cone before arriving.

"Dad, please," she begged, "Just get in the cab, Russell has already called the airline,"

"I'm not leaving with you," Quinn responded.

"Yes you are," Judy shot, "You are leaving with your father and I, and we're going home. We're packing and then we're leaving for Greece, and you are going to leave all of this behind,"

"I am in love with Rachel," Quinn said adamantly, "You can take me to Greece but I will still be in love with Rachel,"

"STOP!" Judy yelled, and it seem to silence the rest of the commuters coming and going from the lobby, it was almost like the staff could sense everything that was happening, because they had dipped their chairs as low as possible at the reception desk, you could barely make out the tops of their heads.

"I've had enough Quinn, your pregnancy was one thing, but this is something entirely different,"

"I'm sorry her what?" Leroy spoke up.

"Oh Rachel didn't mention anything?" Judy snapped, "Already lying about past mistakes are we?"

Rachel huffed, "Past mistakes Mrs Fabray, to which shouldn't justify who Quinn is now,"

Quinn squeezed her hand.

"You were pregnant?" Leroy asked again turning to her.

Quinn trembled, "It was a mistake, I was ashamed, it was something that I…"

"Quinn why didn't you tell us?" Hiram interrupted softly, "We could have spoken about this? Helped you?"

"Sweetheart you know you can always tell us anything? We'll never ever be ashamed of you, ever…" Leroy responded.

Quinn didn't know whether to cry over their words, her grandfather's nod of appreciation or the fact it just infuriated her mother even more.

"We're leaving!" she said again, and she moved forwards, to which Quinn and Rachel both stepped backwards, "Quinn I swear to god I will drag you from here if I have to,"

"Judy," Russell said and his eyes were searching for Quinn's, anything to try and understand what was happening inside her head.

"Russell tell the cab driver to put Quinn's things in the trunk," Judy replied.

"Mum please," Quinn begged, "Please don't do this, just listen to us, listen to how all this happened,"

"You lied to me," Judy replied, "You out-right lied to your father and me,"

"Mrs Fabray," Rachel started.

"Do not," Judy reared at her, "What have you turned my daughter into? All of you? Brainwashing her like this, making her… making her… one of you…"

"That's enough," Hiram interrupted, "How dare you speak about my daughter and our family like that? You do not know us at all,"

"And that's the way it will remain," she responded. Judy reached out and clasped Quinn's arm, "We're leaving," she said for the millionth time.

Quinn struggled against her, "No,"

She'd never felt her mother grip her this hard, not even when she was a child throwing a tantrum. This was so different, like her mother was taking a hold of her, and telling Quinn that if she didn't follow the rules, maybe she would be disowned.

"Judith, you are being irrational," Arthur said, "The kids these days… it's different, if I can accept that, surely you can…"

"You should not be here Dad," Judy shot, "Flying? Your heart isn't as capable as it used to be,"

"Anything's capable for my Quinnie," he said crossing his arms, "I didn't raise you this way Judith,"

"Mum I'm not going with you," Quinn repeated. She would move in with her grandfather, she would move into her safe house, where she and Rachel could be in love forever.

"Frannie would never have done this," Judy said.

She did it.

She'd driven the dagger straight in, and twisted, and it was exactly the thing to make Quinn completely tense.

Quinn felt Rachel's grip loosen, the sentence had shaken her just as much, "Fives," Rachel said softly, "Fives go with them,"

Quinn shook her head, standing in the middle of her mother and her girlfriend.

"Quinn," Rachel said again, her eyes spilling tears, "Go with them,"

There's an old folk law tale, about how humans managed to find their way to earth. It starts with describing how the universe was in the beginning. It says that it was just this big black pit of darkness and the only thing that existed was the moon and the sun. The moon was only ever subjected to the night sky, living her life in darkness, with no one else to talk to, because everyone else was shadowed by this great big blanket of black.

She grew jealous of the sun, jealous because he was allowed to come out during the day and he had the clouds to bounce through and talk to, like an open sea of cotton candy. The moon grew so hungry that she began to eat away at her own surface, eating and eating until eventually she become this horrible sharp slice. The slice became so sharp and pointed that it ripped a great big hole in the universe.

The moon became alarmed, so alarmed that she tossed and turned to try and stop the black from ripping, but it only worsened, the rips in the sky became so great that suddenly the sky started to bleed. It bled all these tiny balls of light that spilt into the universe as millions and millions of stars.

The moon was so frantic, she tried to swallow the stars back up, "_get back to where you came from,"_ she had cried, and mostly it worked, because she became rounder and healthier and a little stronger, but there were too many of them. These stars just kept spilling and spilling, until they made the night sky so beautiful and so bright that even the sun was envious.

One day, the sun decided to invite the stars to his side of the world, he said that his side of the world was always bright. The stars thought that this sounded quite nice, but what the sun failed to tell them, was that in the daytime, they would never ever be seen. Some of the sillier stars jumped from the sky to the ground, but they froze under the weight of their own sacrifice. The moon tried to help them; she tried to carve each of the stars into a man or a woman.

Then for the rest of eternity, she vowed she would watch over her other stars, so they wouldn't fall. The moon has spent all this time, trying to hold onto whatever she could, trying to hold onto her stars hands.

Maybe when shooting stars fall, it means that she couldn't hold on, it means that something or someone has told her to let go.

If the moon can't always hold onto her stars, does that mean humans sometimes can't hold onto each other?

It was like autopilot mode, Quinn was dragged by her mother, passed Leroy and Hiram, passed Mr Schuester, and out into the streets of Times Square, she was loaded into the backseat of the cab, whilst her father climbed into the front and her mother and grandfather climbed in next to her.

After the cab had pulled from the curb, Quinn felt her grandfather curl his arm around her shoulder, "Don't you worry Quinnie," he whispered so softly, only she could hear him, "Don't you dare worry about a thing, your Pops knows what to do,"

Quinn wanted to be enveloped by the buildings. When she had arrived here she had been as tall as those skyscrapers, and now, now she was buried under a huge pile of rubble and she had no idea how to get out.

* * *

><p>You know, when people say 'I'm going to sleep now', it doesn't mean anything. It's normal right? You turn the lights off, you close your eyes and you go to sleep. But if we really think about it, sleeping is the most unusual activity. We're basically saying that for the next several or so hours, whilst the sun has disappeared we're going to lie in an unconscious state, temporarily lose command over everything, and then when the sun returns, we'll resume life.<p>

If someone didn't know what sleeping was, they'd probably be like 'so there were these people and they became unconscious, and would stop functioning almost completely, except deep in their minds they would have adventures and experiences impossible in real life…'

Only to wake up and realise that maybe what they were dreaming about was much nicer than what they had woken up to. It's in that point, right before you close your eyes when your mind is alert with all the things that you can't seem to fix.

When you close your eyes, you hope with everything you have, that when you open them again, whatever happened that day would just magically be fixed.

Right now, as Quinn lay amongst her pillows, she thought about a story she had once read that a student had written in the back of an American history textbook. They'd stuck a page over _George W Bush_ and written a story about their feelings instead. Gradually, after months of using the same textbook, Quinn found that the same student had written a whole bunch of tales, in whole lot more textbooks. They'd named them '_Tales of the girl and the star'_ and the one Quinn read in particular, was the only thing she could think of right now, as she felt the tears stinging her eyes.

Just after midnight, the star had settled itself amongst the puddles that had gathered across the surface of the gravel road, in response to the rain that continued to fall on the small town. It wasn't shining all that brightly or noticeably, it was far too interested in the girl, lying in the middle of the white lines. Her hair streaked her cheeks, her clothes soaked through to her frozen skin and her eyes remained fixated upon the darkened night sky above her.

"_Why are you outside girl?"_ the star asked confused.

"_I like the rain,"_ she murmured.

"_But aren't you cold?"_

"_Yes."_

This worried the star, who couldn't possibly understand the reasoning behind this human's decision.

"_So why are you letting the rain torture you?"_

"_It's not,"_ she whispered, _"its hiding me."_

"_And how is the rain hiding you?"_

"_Because,"_ the girl answered slowly, "_You can't see my tears in the rain."_

Quinn brought her hands to her eyes and pressed as hard as she could, trying to force the tears back into her eyes. She hadn't been out of the house in three days. Her mother had taken her phone and her laptop.

She hadn't seen or spoken to Rachel.

It felt like her insides were falling out beneath her.

The pillow was stained with Quinn's tears; you could see the faint outline of her mascara against the baby blue of the pillow case. She hadn't cried this hard since the miscarriage, but it's the same thing isn't it? When you feel like you've lost something, you grieve about it; you grieve until the hole fills up again.

This was different though. There was no way she was giving up Rachel. She'd run away if she had to, she'd run away and never come back.

There was a clink, that sounded like glass breaking and it caused Quinn to look up slightly. Her room was dim, just her lamp was glowing on her bedside table, but the sky outside was as black as the mascara on her pillow. There was another clink, and then a hand reached and smacked the glass panel. Quinn jumped up immediately, running to the window sill and pulling open the window, the night air filled her lungs instantly.

"Smalls?" she stammered.

Rachel balanced precariously on the thatch trailing up the side of Quinn's wall outside.

"Actually I prefer Romeo," she replied, "Who is going to fall to a crumbling death if you don't do something,"

Quinn immediately reached for her, pulling Rachel through the window and into her room with a small thud.

"Fives you are deaf? I was running out of twigs to hit the window with,"

"Baby," Quinn whimpered, gripping her, because somehow they had managed to tangle themselves in a heap on the floor.

Rachel cupped the sides of Quinn's face, pulling herself to sit on top of her. Rachel kissed her without another word.

"Mmmm" Quinn murmured in response, "I am so in love with you,"

Rachel smirked, "I've never climbed someone's thatch wall before,"

Quinn trailed her mouth over Rachel's neck; she could feel her pulse as it beat against her lips. She pressed them against her collarbone and closed her eyes. She felt safe again, and Rachel was wearing that _fucking_ amazing perfume again.

"Can we run away?" Quinn murmured.

"No," Rachel responded, "Unless we live with _Barbra Streisand_, the _Babs_ has a thing for the neglected artist types,"

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Quinn," Rachel said struggling to keep her breathing steady as Quinn's tongue began to slide along the crevices of her neck, "I've come to tell you that we need to face your parents together,"

"And you couldn't have called?"

"Well you don't have your phone, and this is so much more romantic…"

Quinn grinned against her, "So true," and she pressed her lips against Rachel's again. She forced Rachel's lips apart, so her tongue was allowed to be where it belonged, toying with Rachel's.

"Fives," Rachel murmured pulling away, "I need to convince your parents,"

"We tried that, I don't care what they say, I'm not going to stop seeing you,"

Rachel huffed, "Quinn, I want their approval, I want to go to Greece, with them knowing us as together, as a couple,"

"We'll go anyway, and hijack a house boat to live on,"

Rachel's eyes brightened, "A house boat in Santorini? With you sunbathing topless?"

Quinn snorted, "What did I say about using the term sun bathing? And topless? Not without you…"

"Greeks are always nude Quinn; you'd have to get used to it,"

"Stop talking," Quinn demanded, pulling at her lips again.

"No," Rachel protested, "Stop hypnotizing me with the way you taste, I need to speak to your parents,"

"They're asleep," Quinn replied, walking her fingers across Rachel's thighs and then sinking them into her waist.

"Asleep? What time is it?" Rachel demanded.

Quinn sighed, craning her neck to glance at her blinking digital clock, "2am" she replied.

Rachel moaned, "Jesus how long did it take me to get up your damn wall?"

Quinn laughed, "Stay with me until morning?"

Rachel's eyes caught hers, "Wake up next to you?"

Quinn nodded.

"Will you hold me the whole night?"

Quinn pushed back against her bed, lifting Rachel up slightly and then collapsing back into her pillows, turning her over and hovering slightly above her.

Rachel giggled beneath her.

"I'll hold you forever," Quinn whispered.

**. . .**

When Quinn opened her eyes, she knew it was still early in the morning, probably only six or seven, but Rachel was still beside her. Quinn trailed her eyes over her body, her smooth olive skin, her hip bone showing from her risen t-shirt. Quinn glanced down to Rachel's hand and smiled slightly. She had always imagined this, having someone who loves you so much, that they probably spent the majority of the night watching you sleep, so that when you woke up, their hand was on your heart.

Rachel's hand was directly over Quinn's heart.

Did you know that humans have invisible stripes? They're called Blaschko's lines, after the dermatologist Afred Blaschko who discovered them. Human skin cells arrange themselves on the body in a series of swirling stripes, but because most of our skin cells are usually the same colour, it's hard to notice. It just goes to show doesn't it, that everyone is an _artwork_, even if we can't specifically see it.

"Quinn," Rachel murmured, her eyes still closed, "Stop touching me,"

Quinn slid her hand up Rachel's back, choosing to ignore her, "No," she responded smirking.

Rachel turned over to face her, "but it's making me we..." she trailed off, choosing to kiss Quinn instead.

Shifting slightly Quinn rolled on top of her, "I like waking up next to you," she murmured.

Rachel still slightly, "Your parents!"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "I don't care about them," she whispered.

"Fives," Rachel huffed, "I can imagine your mother would literally kill me…"

"I'll protect you," Quinn reasoned.

Rachel smirked, "I am sensing mothers have a whole different type of power,"

Quinn stared at her a moment, "You ever wish your Mum was in your life?"

Rachel shrugged lightly, "Sometimes," she whispered, "But how do I deal with that you know? She's the vocal adrenaline coach, or was… or I don't even know right now, because I can't bring myself to meet her…"

"Smalls," Quinn said, "Maybe you should…"

Rachel shook her head, placing a finger to Quinn's lips, "Can we just deal with your parents first? Let alone trying to open a whole other door that I'm not ready for?"

Quinn nodded, leaning in and kissing her, "I still want to run away,"

Rachel pressed tightly against her, "That's not an option, we stand strong against our battles Quinn Fabray, I'm Rachel Berry, I do not back down…"

"Oh really," Quinn said raising her eyebrows, "You're not fighting me very hard right now,"

"That's different," she grinned, "I like you overpowering me,"

Quinn's eyes taunted her a moment, walking her fingers across Rachel's torso towards the elastic of her tights, "I will conquer you like Alexander the great," Quinn smirked.

Rachel squirmed, "Fives the great," she corrected.

"Conqueror of the land of smalls," she laughed, kissing her again.

"QUINN!"

They both jumped.

"Every emperess has her enemies," Quinn groaned.

"I have to go," Rachel said, sliding away from her and off the bed.

"What?" Quinn said, "No! Hide in my cupboard!"

Rachel snorted, "Excuse me Quinn Fabray, I am a leading lady, I do not hide away! Stars shine bright thank you very much,"

"Don't go!" Quinn said, sliding off the bed towards her, "Just hide and then I'll come back for you,"

Rachel placed a kiss to her lips, "Call me when you get your phone back,"

"Rachel," Quinn begged.

Rachel turned right before the window sill, "Quinn you need to be brave and talk to your parents, you do that, and then Arthur and I will take care of the rest,"

Quinn cocked an eyebrow, "I don't understand,"

"I have your grandfather on speed dial, right next to Kurt and Santana," she paused, "It makes life so much easier,"

Quinn smirked, as Rachel sidled out onto the window sill, "Come here," she said balancing on the thatch again, and Quinn walked to her.

Rachel leant in through the open glass and kissed her, she kissed her so deeply, Quinn nearly toppled out the window, "I love you," she murmured.

**. . .**

When she was a little girl, right after Frannie's thirteenth birthday, her father went out and bought Quinn a doll house. Frannie had started dating this red headed kid called Jackson and she was always with him. So Quinn guessed her father figured if she had the doll house maybe she wouldn't get bored. Quinn would sit for hours with it. She had four dolls, the mother, the father and two sisters. It was at least six months of sitting with that doll house, creating stories and picture perfect scenarios of a family she had created herself, before anything happened to it. One morning she woke up and someone had rearranged all the small pieces of furniture, someone had separated the two sisters, someone had drawn pictures on the walls to replace the ones Quinn had drawn.

She would never know what hand came and changed around everything those four little dolls had become accustomed to. But maybe that was the whole point, maybe families are never what you want them to be.

Rachel had left and Quinn hadn't even bothered to respond to her father calling her. She had spent half the morning in her room, reading over some of the letter's Rachel had written her, and either laughing or stopping herself from crying. She wasn't giving her up, no way in hell; her girlfriend was so beautiful she couldn't even think of the words right now.

There was a slight knock at her door, and as it was opened, Quinn watched her father walk into her room, he was holding her phone. She glared at the phone, to him and then back again.

"I thought you might want this back," he said, handing it to her.

"That was nice of you," she responded sarcastically.

"Oh Quinn," he said softly, leaning slightly by the wall, "What's happening?"

Quinn snapped at him, "What's happening? What's happening is that my parents are taking me to Greece in the hopes I will get over my girlfriend, to which won't work… you've both just ruined everything you know that,"

"Quinn this phase…"

"Phase?" she repeated, "Can you hear yourself right now?"

"Don't speak to me like that; I'm your father…"

"And I'm your daughter and look how you're treating me," she replied, those fiery tears, were welling in her eyes again, and she was trying so hard to keep the anger down to a simmer, instead of letting everything just explode.

"Well if it was a real relationship Quinn, you would have told us," he replied.

"It _is_ a real relationship," she retorted, "I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't understand,"

Russell seemed to mull over this lightly.

"You love Kurt don't you?" she snapped, "You have no problem with him, no problem at all…"

"Quinn that's because it's Kurt and he's…"

"Not your own child?" she answered angrily, "That's so pathetic Dad…"

Russell sighed slightly, "Quinn I never wanted…"

"To hurt me?" she asked, "Well you have Dad; you've hurt me because every time you look at me, I think you're looking at me in disgust,"

That sentence seemed to shatter him.

"Quinn, you are my little girl," he reasoned, "I would never ever think of you in disgust, it's impossible,"

"Then why can't you think of me with Rachel?" she responded, "Why can't you just respect that she's the person I am in love with, why is that so hard?"

Russell moved closer, "This is what you want?"

Quinn stared at him.

"Be an adult Quinn," he said, "Is this what you want?"

"More than life itself," she responded.

He nodded, "Well then, my daughter has a girlfriend," he whispered, and he kissed the top of her head, "Call Kurt," he whispered, "He's been ringing nonstop,"

Quinn glanced at her phone, he wasn't the only one; half of the Glee Club had sent her messages as well.

"Quinn," he whispered, "I only ever want what's best for you, and if sometimes I don't understand, it's only because I'm trying so hard not to let you go,"

Quinn gulped back the lump in her throat, "Sooner or later you need to let me make my own decisions Dad, and you need to support those decisions no matter what they are,"

Her father reached out and squeezed her shoulders, "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Before Quinn even had the chance to answer, suddenly someone cleared their throat in her doorway and they both looked up. Her mother stood, still dressed in her work clothes; clearly she had only just arrived home.

"I'll ahh… put on some dinner shall I…"

Quinn wanted to beg her father to stay in the room, but like a small little lamb, she watched her father disappear out into the corridor, brushing her mother, like a solider would, when they tag teamed another of their comrades.

Quinn watched apprehensively as her mother made her way into her room, and for the first time in all her life, Quinn had absolutely nothing to say to her.

"When I first started school, my teacher told the class that in the past, humans believed in all kinds of things,"

Quinn watched her take a tentative step towards the bed, and then hover for a moment, before sitting down beside her.

"People in the past use to believe that the world was flat, but then _Galileo_ discovered it wasn't. People use to believe that the earth was made of only four elements, and then _Dmitri Mendeleev_ created the periodic table. People also believed that if you stayed too long in a bath tub, you would get sick," she paused a moment, reaching and dabbing the tear that had formed in her eye. "But that's just it Quinn, suddenly someone saw the germs under a microscope and people realised that what they once thought wasn't really it. People can believe something for so long, and then discover that it was never like that in the first place,"

"Mum…" Quinn said.

"Let me finish," she replied softly, "It isn't about me wanting you to be straight, or wanting you to have a boyfriend, because darling, I am well aware of the diversity in our society these days, Quinn I'm a lawyer, I've seen it all,"

Quinn sighed; she probably _had_ seen it all.

"But am I that much of a horrible mother, when all I want is for my child to go through life as easily as possible? Choosing this life Quinn, no matter how much society is evolving, is still choosing a difficult path,"

You know, when you're seventeen, everything seems like the absolute end of the world. Small problems become tremendous, and then tremendous problems become all out catastrophes. When your seventeen having people accept you is nearly as essential as oxygen. Having your parents acceptance, is supposed to be just a given isn't it? They love you unconditionally from the moment you are born?

What happens, if somewhere down the track, you're fighting for the acceptance that is always just meant to be there?

"What if someone told you, that you couldn't be with Dad?"

Her mother looked at her, watery puffy eyes, like the way Quinn's currently looked too.

"Quinn…"

"If someone told you that Mum, I sure as hell would hope someone would be there to fight for your rights to love. So I'm asking you, please, fight for mine?"

You know maybe there are a thousand different experiences in our lives that we struggle to find the words to name specifically. Like the death of a parent, the birth of a child, falling in love, finding the one thing that made all your dreams come true. Sometimes it can be said that words are like shields, we hope to god they'll protect us, cover all the things we mean by them.

What the world sometimes realises, and only realises when really thought about, is that words are just like _us_. Sometimes they can't possibly hope to hold all the happiness, or the wonder or the grief that we try to use them with. Experiences are like that a little too. You know what they feel like; you know what those experiences feel like, because you're the one that has lived through them, but when you try to fathom the idea to someone else, break it down so it makes sense, well, there's only so many ways the words can be constructed.

Quinn felt like that now, there were so many more things she wanted to say, just have them slide from the end of her tongue, pass through her lips and settle in the air around she and her mother, but she didn't know how to say them, because she had no idea where to start. She needed her mother to be just that. She needed her mother, to be the parent.

"You really love her don't you," her mother whimpered.

Never in her life had Quinn ever seen her mother falter, the way she used words, her mannerisms and her tone had always been so infallible. She had been poised and calm. But not now, right now Quinn was almost watching her mother fall to pieces.

"I do," Quinn replied.

Judy's shoulder slumped as she took a deep breath, "Do I get some time?"

Quinn shrugged, "As long as you need, but never stop me, and never question me, I don't want to be pushed away Mum…"

Judy nodded, curling her hand down beside Quinn and holding it open, Quinn took it immediately.

"What's next?"

"You apologize to the Berrys,"

Judy bit her lip, "Okay," she murmured.

"Mum," Quinn whispered, squeezing her hand, "Thank you,"

Judy closed her eyes briefly, "I love you so much Quinn," she replied.

* * *

><p>Do ever sometimes think that when you're standing under a tree, or near a power line, and you suddenly hear the birds chirping or singing, that they're talking about you? They looking down at you, because they have this <em>bird's eye view<em> of you, they can see the absolute whole of you, and the only way you can see them is if you look up. Maybe they're whispering secret things about you, like the way you did your hair, or the way you're standing, or maybe they're asking each other questions.

Why are they alone?

Why are they standing in that particular spot?

Where are they headed?

Right now, a day after the conversations with her parents, in the late afternoon sunlight, Quinn knew the two birds perched just on the gutter railing of the Berry's front porch, were probably asking why in the world she was trembling so much.

"I feel so silly wearing a tie and blazer," Russell said sheepishly.

"You'll do as I say," Arthur replied behind him.

"Dad," Judy responded, "We're not kids,"

"You are to me!" he retorted, "Quinnie," he said, "Ring the doorbell,"

"I cannot believe you and Rachel had this whole thing planned," Quinn responded, her eyebrows narrowing, "Pop, why didn't you tell me?"

"Do not question your grandfather," Judy sighed, "It gets you nowhere,"

Arthur grinned broadly, watching as Quinn reached and tapped the doorbell. That familiar chime filtered through the house and then they waited.

The door was answered, and Hiram stood on the other side, dressed in cashmere and holding a fry pan, Quinn literally thought he was going to hurl it at her. But he opened the door and that beautiful smell of home cooking, nearly knocked her over.

"Sweetheart," he grinned, and then his face fell slightly when he saw her parents, "Oh," he said.

"Hiram!" Arthur said, slipping past Russell and extending his hand, "I have heard wonderful things about your cheesecake!"

Hiram smirked slightly, raising his eyebrows at Quinn.

"We wanted to…" Judy spoke up, "I… I wanted to make amends,"

Hiram looked at her, "Well I've just started cooking, you're in time, Rachel told me Barbara Streisand was coming over, I damn well knew I shouldn't have believed her…"

Quinn snorted with laughter and then stopped herself at Hiram's facial expression.

"Come in," he said, and he held the door open for them.

Leroy had already come into the foyer to see who was at the door; he stopped short when Quinn and her family entered.

Again, her grandfather broke the ice, and Quinn wanted to literally just cry as he extended his hand to Leroy, who took it quite gladly, "It's quite a pleasure to meet the men who raised such a fine Miss Berry," he smiled.

Quinn watched as her parents extended their hands to Leroy and Hiram too, and nodding they shook back. Maybe this was all that was needed just for now, just a simple hand shake; it was a start wasn't it?

Starts were always good.

You know maybe there's a lot to be said about who and how to love. Maybe one day, most people will be able to sit down and agree that there are no kinds of love, there aren't any boundaries or expectations of the sort.

Love is love.

It is simple and complicated, it hurts and it keeps you alive.

The degrees by which we love, should never be subjected to the degrees of another person's opinion. Quinn knew that this wouldn't be easy. It was almost like they had been living in a bubble all this time, and now it had popped, it had popped and sent them sprawling across the stage into the spotlight. Rachel was worth it though.

Love was worth it.

You fight for what you love.

You fight for the right to love, and you hope to god there are other people in the world, who will fight for you too.

* * *

><p>P.S little readers… I'm sorry I took so long to update, I was super busy with life and everything haha But I love your involvement in this story and all your words to me… they mean a lot :)<p> 


	29. Chapter 28

Hi My little readers!

A few of you have made comments telling me you're not brave enough to come off anon to leave messages on my tumblr or on here...

So here goes:

So I'm about 5'3, can't do karate and I'm an average white Australian LOL

The other day my brother told me to kill a bee and I couldn't do it for fear there'd be less honey in the world… Conclusion? I'm not scary… you can talk to me! :p

More importantly…to all you americanos... I'm landing in the states in a week! **Surprise!** So if any of you little readers reside in San Francisco, Vegas, L.A, Chicago, New York or Miami... I think you should msg me and we can go party... Or go to a book store... Or even better you can lend me your television set so I can watch glee ;)

No seriously... Educate me... Is taco bell really that amazing?

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 28<strong>

The Summer in Greece

_No matter where you are in the world, you can always see the light in the sky_

* * *

><p>Imagine your life as one of those rides at the carnival, you know those ones, where you're sitting in a cart and it takes you through this maze of different obstacles.<p>

Are they ever a smooth ride?

No.

Things jump out at you.

Things go bang and send you sprawling for six.

You'll be calm one minute, confused the next, and then just wanting to close your eyes. You keep them open though don't you; you keep them open, because you don't want to miss a thing.

Quinn's mother had kept her promise, she didn't dare say anything that would make Quinn feel uncomfortable, but at the same time, Quinn could tell she was avoiding having to witness her and Rachel together. Every time Quinn would reach for Rachel, kiss her, play with her hair, Judy couldn't walk from the room fast enough. How can you be angry with that though? When someone hasn't known anything different and they've been brought up a certain way, with certain beliefs and expectations, how can you punish them when suddenly everything they've ever known just changes?

Christ even Quinn hadn't known anything different before this.

"Pop!" Quinn said annoyed, reefing the tent from the suitcase, "I am not taking this hideous thing!"

"Quinnie!" he protested from where he sat on the edge of her bed, "Sun protection is imperative!"

Quinn glared at him, "Oh I hear you, but using this tent would literally mean blocking out the sun and not getting a shade of colour!"

Arthur rubbed his chin, "We were not blessed with the ability to tan well Quinnie, you need to do it safely,"

Quinn folded her arms, "No I was just blessed with a grandfather who lives vicariously through a pawn shop, and brings me home a tent that was used by an ex-convict,"

Her grandfather grinned, "Such a fabulous story!"

Before Quinn could retaliate, there was a loud thud, and she turned to see Santana crash into the room with Brittany.

"Don't leave us!" Santana whined.

Quinn laughed, as Brittany bounded over and sat next to Arthur, "A, what is that?" she asked pointing to the tent Quinn had thrown on the floor.

"The greatest form of sun protection," he replied, winking at her.

Brittany laughed, "Q, we're hijacking your Pop for the summer,"

Santana nodded, "A, you just got lucky,"

Quinn watched her grandfather roll his eyes, "Don't leave me!" he said to Quinn and she smirked.

"So your mum agreed to let us take you to the airport," Santana said, "When is Rachel getting here?"

Quinn sighed, "That would be right," she replied, "Anything to avoid seeing Rachel and I together,"

Santana snorted, "She's going to be spending an entire summer in your presence, does she think you guys are going to go celibate?"

Brittany coughed, "Well nothing's changed,"

Quinn threw her pillow at her, "Can we not talk about this in front of my grandfather please?"

Santana waved a hand, "A is one of us, aren't you," she grinned.

Arthur raised his eyebrows, "_Querida_," he reasoned, "There are certain times in my life I'm glad I'm old and can't hear very well, this being one of them,"

Brittany leant her head on his shoulder, "Wise man," she grinned.

Quinn stared at her suitcase, she was proud of how quickly she had packed; the day had come up so quickly, she wasn't even sure she was ready for it. Her phone buzzed and she reached for it, smiling slightly at Rachel's message.

**Smalls:**

**'My Dads are driving me insane. They're coming to the airport even though I begged them not to. They've made signs I've just left the house. See you soon! **

**love you baby x'**

"She's on her way," Quinn confirmed, watching as Santana glanced at her watch.

"How long do you have to be in the airport prior to take off for international flights?" she asked.

"Three hours,"

Quinn turned to see her mother in her doorway, holding one of those oversized beige hats, "Thank god we don't have pets," she muttered.

"Dad, how are you getting back to the house? Do you want Russ to take you now?"

Arthur shook his head, "I'm coming to the airport!"

Judy seemed to sigh, "Dad you go gallivanting around everywhere!"

"Oh Judith stop trying to hand feed me, Kurtis is taking me,"

Quinn turned briefly, "Kurt's coming to the airport?"

"Of course I am," and suddenly Kurt was in the doorway as well, "Snips, we've got _cherry jubes_ for the ride,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "God we're going for the _summer_, not forever!"

Santana stepped over to her, gripping her around the waist, "I don't think you quite understand how long that is to us,"

**. . .**

The cab had pulled into the driveway, as the driver piled her parent's suitcases into the trunk. Quinn stared at him from the porch, a burly man, round belly, jet black hair, wearing a Yankees baseball cap. Clearly someone was in the wrong neighbourhood.

"Quinn!" her mother called, "Meet us at the check in point!"

Quinn nodded, watching her mother crawl into the vehicle as her father gave a slight wave.

Just as the cab pulled out, Rachel's Dads car pulled up.

It was almost as if her mother's universal timing schedule was running on avoidance.

Rachel was already out of the car and dragging her suitcase, "Daddy, a donkey is not going to attack me for no particular reason,"

"You don't know that!" Leroy huffed from the driver seat.

Quinn waved to them.

"Okay let's go," Santana said, helping Brittany take the suitcase from Rachel's hands.

Quinn stood staring at her for a moment, she was dressed in this adorable yellow dress; she looked like freaking sunshine.

Rachel smirked at her, "Stop staring at me Quinn Fabray,"

Quinn trailed her eyes over her as she stepped towards her, Rachel slipped into Quinn's arms, kissing her softly.

"I'm excited," she grinned.

"Yo sunshine and lollipop!" Santana yelled from her jeep, "_Prisa_ yeah? Hurry up?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, dragging Rachel towards the car, "Pop!" she called over her shoulder, "Please tell Kurt to keep the blasting of _Lionel Ritchie_ down to a minimum!"

"A minimum!" Arthur replied, following Kurt down the driveway towards his parked sedan, "But the sing off we've organised determines who gets to borrow your red cap for the summer!"

Quinn raised her eyebrows at Kurt as he smiled and held the door open for her grandfather.

Why couldn't they all just come with them?

**. . .**

There are certain points in your life, when you have to stop and think that maybe the world isn't all that bad. Sure you turn on the TV and the hosts usually say good morning, but instead of proceeding to tell you all the good things in the world, they usually saturate you with all the bad, but you should remember that beneath all the hurt and the anger, there is still a lot of good, you just need to look. Quinn had always thought that amongst the gloomy state of the world, the arrivals and departures at any given airport can prove that love really does exist more than what accounts for all the hatred and greed.

Airports are the melting pots of different nationalities and widespread stories. Perhaps these stories aren't always newsworthy and aren't as noticeable as most others, but they're always there. Mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, sons and fathers, boyfriends and girlfriends, best friends, partners and lovers, old friends and relatives. It seems that in airports with people saying goodbye or reuniting, that there's a lot more love to give than anything else.

When those two planes hit the _Twin Towers_, Quinn had been around six years old, and even if she couldn't grasp what it meant, she knew enough to know that all those messages from those on board, weren't of hate or revenge, but rather messages of love. Airport shops have love heart balloons and teddy bears reading _I love you_; control officer's nod at you in the waiting bays and stewards smile at you and tell you to enjoy your flight. Quinn had this sneaking suspicion, that love exists more so in airports, than anywhere else in the world.

"Two and a half months," Brittany sighed, wrapping Quinn into a hug, "That's such a long time,"

Quinn smiled, "We'll be back before you guys know it,"

"By then I'll have hopefully a tan to match yours," Kurt winked.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Kurtastical they'll have a European tan, it does not even compare," she glanced at Quinn, "So jealous!"

Kurt inhaled slightly, "Okay," he said, breaking between them and wrapping his arms around Quinn, "I love you, and please be safe, and see if you can't find a cute Greek boy for me?"

Quinn smiled into him, "I'll be sure to express post him back," she whispered.

She watched as Kurt moved to Rachel, squeezing her tightly.

One by one they said goodbye to their friends, "skinny dip for me will you," Santana whispered in her ear and Quinn rolled her eyes, "and know that I love you Q," she added softly.

She watched tentatively as her parents shook hands with Rachel's fathers, promising that their daughter would be safe and well looked after. Quinn supposed that really took a lot for her mother to say that, so it had to count for something didn't it?

"Quinnie,"

Quinn turned slightly as her grandfather side stepped Santana to stand directly in front of her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her directly in the eyes.

"Do you want to know my favourite thing about Greek history Quinnie?"

Quinn grinned, "What is it Pop?"

"It's one single quote by a famous Greek philosopher called _Protagoras_," he rose slightly on the balls of his feet, as though he was almost intrigued by the quote he already knew, "Protagoras says, _there are two sides to every question_"

Quinn frowned, "Pop I don't understand,"

Arthur looked at her a moment, and then that familiar grin spread across his wrinkled face, "You will soon Quinnie, you will soon,"

Quinn allowed her grandfather to hug her, before her mother said it was time to go. One last look at the people they loved, and Quinn and Rachel followed Russell and Judy through to duty free.

"I should get some more of my perfume," Rachel said, trailing beside Quinn.

Quinn looked at her, "Yes you absolutely should, it sends me crazy,"

Rachel grinned, before disappearing behind one of the shelves to look at prices.

Quinn stared at herself in the reflection of the small silver television screen in front of her, she was looking at a row of duty free electronics and all she could think about was what her grandfather had meant by what he had said. That there are two sides to every question.

Why did she get the feeling, that she was about to be taught another lesson?

* * *

><p>If someone was to ask you what you thought of when the word Greece was said, what would you say?<p>

Paradise? Sun? Tanning? Old Greek houses and donkeys?

When Quinn hears the word Greece, she thinks of her sister, of the wedding and of a baby due in a month. She was going to be an aunt, and she hadn't spoken to Frannie in what seemed like forever. But there's something else she thinks about in relation to Greece. Something that she had read in an old library book she has still yet to return.

Very few people know that the word _Apocalypse_ originally came from the Greek translation of 'lifting of the veil' or 'revelation' which traditionally means something that is hidden from the majority of mankind in an era specifically dominated by falsehood and misconception. So if really thought about, the real term apocalypse isn't something entirely as horrible as what people presume.

An apocalypse represents the revealing of the true nature of things. It turns into an era of forgotten freedoms and clarity. It would lift the veil and set the world free from the result of our own ignorance.

So maybe the Greeks know a little bit more about the world than what we've ever credited them for.

The moment they stepped off the plane, Quinn felt the heat collide with her skin; it bristled, almost like the sun thought it necessary to shower her body in dozens of welcoming kisses. They had walked from Athens airport to the shipping docks and boarded the cruise ship, on-bound for Santorini. Quinn had spent the majority of the cruise lying on the top deck, watching Rachel soak the sun, she was already going golden and she hadn't even been in the country for 24 hours. Santorini hosted three islands. Her sister lived with Spyros in the village of _Thira_.

Predominately as her mother had informed them on the shuttle bus from the docks, this was the commercial part of Santorini. Everywhere Quinn looked she could see these gorgeous white, rounded houses with blue roofs and pot plants hanging from the windows. Quinn had never seen the ocean look so blue before, it was like this great big parallel mirror with the sky above, and the clouds bouncing like white lillie pads amongst the stillness of the water.

A young Greek boy met them, as the shuttle dropped them off on the corner of the gravelled street.

"_εμπρός_" he smiled, "hello!"

Russell shook his outstretched hand before fumbling for the translation guide in his pocket, to which made the boy laugh.

"I speak English!" he grinned, "Russ, Judy! Welcome to Santorini!"

Quinn watched as her father seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, "Adrien," he said smiling, "Spyros' brother?"

Adrien nodded, "It is very nice to meet you," he said.

His English was very good, despite his heavy accent. He was rugged, dark hair, extraordinarily well built, tanned and tall. He looked a little like Spyros only younger.

Adrien's eyes seemed to linger on Quinn a moment, "You look like her," he said.

He didn't even need to introduce himself; he had already shattered nearly all of Quinn's defences with just a simple statement.

"The house!" Judy said trying to avoid small talk, "Let's get everything inside?"

"Leave them!" Adrien smiled, "I will have the workers help with your belongings, come inside, your rooms are ready,"

Quinn eyed her father who shrugged, clearly her parents hadn't let on, just how well off Frannie was at the moment.

Rachel glanced at her slightly, "Fives, does Frannie even know who I am?"

Quinn stopped just short of the gateway, "Frannie doesn't even know who _I am anymore_," she whispered.

"Russ and Judy we have a room for you up on the landing strip, there's another three rooms just down the stairs for the girls, I'm sorry I wasn't aware Quinn was bringing someone,"

"Oh so Frannie knows _I'm_ coming?" Quinn replied hotly.

"Adrien, this is…" Judy cleared her throat, "Quinn's _friend_ Rachel, whatever room you wish to put her in that will be fine,"

"They don't want to share?" Adrien asked

"Yes," Quinn replied as her mother said, "No" at the same time.

Adrien seemed confused.

"The girls can share," Russ smiled gently, and then he glared at Judy who inhaled a breath before regaining herself.

"Thanks Adrien,"

He nodded slightly, "I'll just go tell Frannie and Spyros you're here, they're down by the spas… make yourself at home," he grinned before trailing away down the marble corridor.

Quinn looked around. How the hell was she supposed to make herself at home? Traditional Greek furniture, splashes of colour, splashes of gold, artworks that she recognised from history text books.

Her sister had workers for Christ sake.

"Judy why on earth wouldn't they be able to share a room?" Russ asked raising his eyebrows.

Quinn gulped, please not another lecture.

But her mother seemed to have let go of the idea anyway, "I suppose it's okay for you two to share a room," she concluded and then she paused, "Well at least there's no risk of pregnancy again right?"

Quinn choked on the peppermint she had just placed in her mouth, "Mum!"

"Oh for god's sake Quinn I don't want to talk about it either… but are you two having sex?"

Christ all mighty, they had just landed in Frannie's house and her mother decides to pop this question now?

Russell shifted uncomfortably, "Sweetheart, I am not sure women are able…"

"Yes we are!" Quinn replied defensively and Rachel flushed bright red.

"No," she corrected, "_Women_ can have sex, but Quinn and I are not,"

Judy bit her lip slightly, "Well that's good to know, you should be thirty,"

"God my Dads said the same thing!" Rachel huffed.

"Then they are smart men, Quinn you are not to stick anything in her,"

Quinn choked on the damn peppermint again, "MUM! Oh my god, I cannot believe you just said that, I am not sticking…" she tried to keep the breathing normal, "Sticking is such a horrible word… what the hell would I be sticking… oh Christ…" and then she stopped and frowned, "why do you assume _I'm_ the one sticking?"

Judy thought a moment, "You're taller?"

Rachel's turn to choke, "Okay no one is sticking anything in me thanks…"

Russell started laughing. He started laughing so hard, pretty soon all four of them were laughing.

"God," Judy said, "Not much use am I?"

"That doesn't matter so much," Rachel responded giggling, "I would still come to you for advice,"

Quinn beamed at her.

**. . .**

The afternoon had rolled on and Quinn had literally decided to hide in the bedroom while she could hear her mother and father gushing over Frannie and Spyros.

"Is it just me or does this wedding sound huge?" Rachel asked from where she was busily unpacking some of her things into the oak wardrobe in the corner of the room.

The room smelt of salt water and sand, it was heaven.

"I don't even know what to say to her," Quinn replied not even bothering to look up from where she had been staring out the window at the ocean.

There was a small huff and Rachel had abandoned her clothing arrangements, stalked over to Quinn, grabbed her wrist and proceeded to drag her from the room.

"Smalls," she said.

Rachel pushed her into the corridor, "I forbid you to renter our _love nest_ until you at least say hello"

Quinn stared at her.

"And you might also like to tell her that your GIRLFRIEND is also here, something your mother forgot to mention and will probably be a highly useful bit of information this summer,"

"Smalls…"

"No love nest, until you see your sister,"

Before Quinn could even reply, the door was slammed and she heard the clicking of a lock.

A lock! It has a lock!

If Quinn were to open a human body, and ignore all the scientific reasons for why that body functioned, she had always thought that she might find, that our insides are really rather poetically fascinating.

Let's start with our minds, our brain, full of tiny little lights that blink our deepest thoughts. The mind is a wonderful tool; it does this thing, where even if the wounds can't be seen physically, our minds can still _feel_ them. Our minds are the gears that make us work; they're the reason for all our hopes to try and communicate with each other.

Now move your way south; travel through to our voice boxes, those small plates sitting wedged between our oesophagus and some other organs we don't pay much attention to. That's how we speak, that's how we voice the things we need to. Don't ever be afraid to use that, it's how words and songs get delivered.

For now, maybe we'll just stop with our hearts. If we opened our hearts, opened them, and looked closely, then we would find that our hearts are the only things in our entire body, from where the truth is held.

Maybe it was time that Quinn started to be honest with herself; that she missed her sister.

The kitchen was huge, filled with a slightly more modern interior than the rest of the house. Quinn stared slightly at the saucepans hanging from a rack just above the kitchen bench, as it stood in the centre of the room. Stools sat around the bench, and she could only imagine the family Frannie and Spyros could grow here.

"Jesus,"

Quinn jumped slightly, almost colliding with one of the stools before she realised that her sister had just walked back into her life after over a year, coincidentally this took place in _Greece_, in Frannie's kitchen.

Quinn would never forget that voice, those eyes, that long blonde hair, the porcelain skin, the plump pink lips, because they were all mirror images of herself, only slightly older, slightly wiser and now supporting a giant belly with a life inside. Quinn's eyes travelled to Frannie's stomach, huge and round and swollen underneath her white shawl. She was golden brown, her hair even more sun kissed than she had ever remembered, and her eyes were shining.

"Hi," Quinn muttered.

A year and all she could manage was _hi_?

You know that moment when you lose your first tooth? Maybe it's your front tooth, maybe one on the side, or that pointy one right down the front. You never realise how much you relied on it until it's gone. Sure you have plenty of other teeth you can use, and losing that tooth doesn't stop you from eating, chewing or drinking.

But it leaves a hole.

It leaves this open gap and for the life of you, no matter how hard you try not to think about it, your tongue keeps sliding back to that open gap. It presses it, and you can feel how raw the nerves are. Those nerves are exposed you know, there's nothing shielding them anymore, and it hurts, it hurts because that tooth isn't there to protect you anymore.

When Frannie left, Quinn's nerves had been spilt out onto the ground, she could try as hard as she wanted to forget that she was so exposed, but standing in the kitchen, staring at her older sister, for the first time in over a year, she felt like her tooth had gone missing all over again.

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, until their mother's voice sounded from somewhere at the back of the house and Frannie called back to her.

"I'm coming Mum!"

And that was it, not another word was uttered from her mouth, just this endearing gaze, the same gaze she gave Quinn when she learnt of Quinn's pregnancy. Frannie left Quinn standing in the kitchen; feeling like _all_ her teeth had just fallen out.

**. . .**

There's so much the sky tells us that we don't pay attention to. Maybe that's why Quinn's head was always in the sky, because that's where the most stories were told. The Greeks believe in many things and many gods, but _Aphrodite_, the goddess of love, has been the only one, that has reared its head in recent history.

Over 60 000 years ago, the Greeks believed that a descendant of _Aphrodite_ walked the earth; she was a beautiful maiden from the island of Mykonos, whom fell in love with an Italian Prince. Their love blossomed the entire summer until their families discovered their forbidden love and condemned them to live without each other. They tried. For years they lived alone and for years they suffered. Until one day, upon a chance encounter they were both met by an Angel from _Saturn_. The angel promised to take them to the sky, if only the maiden ruled _Neptune_ and the Prince ruled _Jupiter_.

Distressed by their lives on earth they agreed. And so the angel took them into the sky, and settled them on their thrones to rule their respective planets.

Still separated from each other.

The maiden, still yearning for her love, began to send pieces of herself to him, across the sky. Now once every 500 years, when the clock strikes midnight, on the first full moon of the month of June, you can see the maiden sending her love across the sky. Bright red lights shooting north past two burning white stars, which represent her eyes, eyes that are still searching for her love.

"Come to the wharf with me," Quinn said reaching for the bedside and grabbing her notebook. She also pulled a blanket and a lantern from near the bedside.

Rachel stopped fanning herself with her hat.

"Aren't we on strict instruction to stay in the rooms?"

Quinn glared at her, "Smalls, we're in Greece, just because my mother thinks that we're going to hijack a bunch of donkeys and end up in hospital shouldn't mean we stay locked inside my sister's guest bedroom,"

Quinn inhaled slightly, "Who still isn't talking to me after the third day, and the wedding is in two weeks,"

Rachel pulled herself up, "Baby, we have to take this slowly,"

"You don't see the way she looks at me Rachel,"

"Like what?"

"Like she's never been more ashamed of anything in her life,"

Rachel bit her lip, "We'll go find the south side of anywhere?"

Quinn grinned gently, tapping her lips with her finger, "here; now," she said and Rachel responded by crawling forwards and kissing her.

"Should we army roll our way out of captivity?"

Quinn huffed, climbing off the bed and striding to the window, she removed the thin curtain drapes and launched herself through the sill, landing flat on her feet on the outside. She stared back in at Rachel.

"You just going to stand there?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, before following her.

The best thing about Santorini was that at night, the main centre came alive in lights. There were tourists and travellers, backpackers and locals, children playing _catch me if you can_, and women bargaining over trinkets in the dimly lit alley ways. There were old Greek men who were smoking by their shop fronts, and their wives beating the doormats beside them, sending dust into the mouths of unsuspecting onlookers. Frannie and Spyros' house overlooked it all, it was like this great big canopy that had the town square on one side and the ocean on the other.

Dipping between the crowds, Quinn and Rachel made their way through the back alleys and down by the side gates of the property. They wound their way along the cobbled pave way, before climbing over the small dip and reaching the landing to where the wharf was only metres down below. The crowd filtered away then, the shouting and the laughing died down to a gentle hum, until all that was left was the sound of the ocean before them, and the occasional sounds of the old church bell as it rung out.

Rachel grabbed her suddenly, "I feel like we're sneaking to our secret love spot,"

Quinn grinned, squeezing her closer, "We are," she replied, and she pushed Rachel gently against the side of the wall, pressing her lips to her neck.

**. . . **

Elizabeth Ross once said that '_people are like stained glass windows; they sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed, only if there is light within'_. Quinn believed that maybe people mirror stain glass windows because we're all as fragile as the next. There's no possible way to define a stain glass window during the day, because it shines the same way as all the others. Switching off the light of the world, covers the windows in darkness, and in the darkness we see true beauty.

True beauty glows from the inside.

Quinn was sprawled on the wharf, she could hear the gentle waves lapping at the timber as the tide was building in the darkness. The lantern was burning beside her, lighting the notebooks she was scrawling in. Rachel was opposite her, lying on her stomach flicking through her iPod, Quinn had tried to write, she really had, but all the words on her page were just the ones she could find when staring at Rachel. Rachel's eyes had this glint in them, they were shining so brightly and it had absolutely nothing to do with the lantern next to them.

"You're so beautiful smalls," Quinn whispered.

Rachel glanced up briefly, "Where did that come from?" she smirked.

Quinn shrugged, "I don't know, I just felt like saying it,"

Rachel stared at her, "Tell me what you're thinking,"

Quinn leaned closer, "Would you ever marry me?"

Quinn kind of just said it. Maybe she didn't mean anything by it, maybe she was just being a seventeen year old in love. But she just wanted to ask the question.

Rachel trailed her eyes over Quinn's lips, and then locked her eyes; the lantern glowed so bright, Quinn swore she could see tiny stars swirling across Rachel's skin.

"Yes," Rachel whispered, and she crawled closer.

Quinn could feel herself break out in trembles before Rachel had even come within inches of her, "Why?" she murmured.

Rachel pressed her lips to Quinn's, taking in her scent, stripping Quinn of whatever else she had left to say. "I would marry you," Rachel said, pushing closer, "So I could kiss you whenever I wanted,"

Quinn whimpered.

"I would marry you," Rachel said again, sliding on top of her, "So I could hear your words every single day,"

Quinn's heart race increased.

"I would marry you," she whispered running her thumb down Quinn's cheek, "Just so I could finally say that I'd caught a star,"

Goosebumps erupted over every inch of Quinn's body.

"You keep telling me you're always in the sky Quinn," Rachel said through the dark, "but you forget that I've always been there too,"

"Make love to me," Quinn choked.

Maybe there's no right or wrong way about having sex. Maybe this gesture between men and women, or women and women, or men and men, has absolutely nothing to do with what goes where or who does what. Maybe it has everything to do with how much you _feel_ with that person.

It's so simple to just remove clothing and have sex. Bland, simple and easy, no poetic rhythm to the actions involved. But maybe that's the difference between having sex and _making love_. With sex there's no colour, its black and white.

But when you make love to someone, you're giving them the entirety of your soul, you're saying, here's my dignity that I'm giving you, here's all of my thoughts, my fears, my hopes and my dreams, I'm going to strip away my defences and bare myself before you.

Maybe that's what being naked truly means, taking away that veil and letting that person inside.

Making love to Rachel for the first time was like learning a new song. It was gentle and intimate and made Quinn feel like the start of something words couldn't describe. Rachel's skin was on fire, it burnt in all the right ways against Quinn's, their hands moved in time with each other's like the way an explorer would map the coordinates of a new discovery.

Everything just felt right, and it ached in all the right ways.

"I love you," Rachel murmured pulling at Quinn's lips.

Quinn pressed harder against her in response, feeling every part of her as it locked with the crevices and spaces of her own body. There was no other way to describe it. It was this feeling, this feeling that she was infinite and they were floating somewhere with no intention of coming down.

"This is a kiss," Quinn murmured, touching Rachel's lips with hers, "It's when I press my lips against yours, or my lips against your chest, or your hands, or whatever I like…"

Rachel's breathing became shallow.

Quinn reached and pulled Rachel's hand over her chest, "This is my heart… can you feel that?"

"Yes," Rachel whispered.

"It will never stop beating for you," Quinn replied, "You keep me alive,"

Maybe there was a certain part of Quinn that hadn't wanted to take away her clothes because of certain insecurities.

We all have those don't we?

Those insecurities that most girls look in the mirror and want to see something better?

We don't realise it though, we don't realise that there is a very specific reason why we're all uniquely constructed, and that reason lies in the fact that life wouldn't be nearly as refreshing if we weren't.

So while many of us look in the mirror and want to be as perfect as the women we see on television or magazines, maybe it all boils down to the simple idea that when someone loves you, all they will ever see is their _home within you_.

There's an old saying that even though most people really rather enjoy '_exotic_' vacations, what they really can't wait for, is the _home_ that has always been there.

The home, that they can come back to.

**. . .**

Rachel was partially asleep. Quinn could hear a steady stream of breaths escape her partly opened lips. She watched as Rachel's body rocked slowly with each inhale, and she trailed her eyes over wisps of Rachel's hair as it fell lightly over her brow, gracing past her shoulders and sprawling onto the wharf beneath them. Her veins wound gently down her arms, as Quinn lay tangled in them; she reached a finger ever so slowly to trace them, carefully, as to not wake her. Quinn traced those veins delicately with her fingers, like she was concentrating on mapping out a valley.

God she loved every single inch of her.

The way Rachel smiled in her sleep, this tiny insignificant freckle plastered on the crook of her shoulder blade. Her scar and her dimples and absolutely everything thing about her, Quinn made sure to memorise it all. It was more than that, it was like this was just the next chapter to a book she already knew so well, like how when Rachel cried, her tears pooled in the crook of her neck. When she laughed it filled the room, like air fills a hot air balloon, it makes Quinn float. When Rachel kissed her she lingered for longer than what was needed. The way Rachel smelt like clean laundry and poppies in summer. Right now, Quinn had found the single most important thing about Rachel.

That when she lay tangled, wrapped up in Quinn and thin blankets, she was still the most beautiful person Quinn knew.

Quinn felt Rachel stir suddenly, and she wondered if maybe, even in her deepest sleep, she would still be able to feel her. Rachel turned to her softly, it was still dark, more than likely the early hours of the morning, but if they could, Quinn would spend forever here, just in this spot. Quinn hummed softly against the tangled mass of blankets, under the widespread night sky.

"Baby," she whispered, as she felt Rachel's lips press against her neck, "I want this to be our _south side of anywhere_, right here, in this part of the world,"

Rachel smiled into her skin, nodding softly, before she whispered into Quinn's neck, "Again,"

Smirking softly, Quinn slipped her hand through the cotton thin blankets; realising that the air was probably warm enough to be a blanket itself. She trailed down Rachel's torso, retracing the steps her fingers had walked just earlier.

"I love you" Quinn whispered, and she curled her fingers deeper, smirking at that familiar noise at the back of Rachel's throat, and the way her breathing increased.

Quinn had learnt something tonight. She had learnt something in between the motions of their bodies, and the way they had learnt what felt right. Quinn had learnt that maybe there were two specific kinds of love. The first is the love that most people settle for, it's the love that means you're exactly like the person you choose, a mirror image, and a life lived in routine and predetermined outcomes.

But then there's this other kind of the love.

The love that most people never find, the love that is rare and intoxicating.

When we're born, we have no expectations of the world, but then suddenly as we grow, we all develop this ragged edge, and with this edge, we search for the piece that's going to fit with ours. Amongst all this searching we start to pick and to pull at our own seams, hoping that this ragged edge is going to fit with our great love.

But that's just it.

That's the love we're looking for isn't it?

The kind of love, that _changes_ you, makes you better, makes you different from where you started.

Maybe love is just about flowers being between garbage piles and emotions stored in computer files. Love isn't this huge thing, and even if sometimes we can't always see it so clearly, at least we know, it's always there, as long as we keep the faith.

Quinn pulled away from Rachel, so she could hover above her and feel the sweat pressed between their bodies and the trembles crawling between their legs.

"Did you know they say that we're more ourselves when no one is looking?"

Rachel stared up at her, and Quinn could feel Rachel's fingers tracing down the length of her spine before she placed the smallest kiss to Quinn's lips, "Well, I'm always looking at you, so you're out of luck, I know you fives, I know you better than I know the sky,"

Quinn curled into her and buried her face into Rachel neck, "Don't ever stop searching for me," she whispered.

"I'd search for light years," Rachel murmured and Quinn held her closer.

Have you ever heard of a double sunset? It was first portrayed in the film _Star Wars_, over thirty years ago. It focuses on the existence of world with a double sunset in the evening. Just recently, scientists working for NASA's _Kelper mission_ made the first unambiguous detections of a _circumbinary_ planet, or in better sense of words, a planet orbiting two stars. The scientists claim that this planet is over two hundred light years from earth.

From a scientific thought, this discovery is a clear confirmation of a planet now named Kelper-16b, where the brightness of a parent star dims from the planet crossing in front of it.

When Quinn thought about it, she realised that in the universe there's someone for everyone isn't there?

Even the planets.

* * *

><p>P.S little readers, I hate leaving you waiting, I really really do, but I was caught up turning 21 this week and I've had packing issues (only allowed 23 kilos? What is this?)<p>

So I will try my best to update again before I leave… and of course I'll be writing away when I'm in the states… AND I'LL FINALLY BE ON A NORMAL TIMEZONE! Happy days!

As always, write to me… I love hearing from you! :)

Courtney x


	30. Chapter 29

Little Readers :) I'm **SO SORRY** for the long wait... but I've been super caught up in America haha I am in love! never want to leave :)

I'm not sure when I can update again... because I don't have a computer and the Ipad won't let me select documents... but I'll try my best okay!

Anyway all my love!

Court

P.S The recent Brittana '_table cloth __hand__holding __scene'_... those writer's finally put some cute stuff in hey... they must have had decent coffee before they wrote that ;)

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 29<strong>

The Summer in Greece

_Sometimes our skin is burnt, which just means we need to shed another layer and move on_

* * *

><p>There's a lot of symbolism behind a snake. Mainly though, a snake represents transformation. Maybe we have more in common with snakes than anyone ever bothers to realise.<p>

Snakes shed their skin.

They go through rapid changes and leave past skins behind.

We do that too don't we? We mould ourselves until we're ready to grow again. So if we're always shedding skin and leaving it behind, how do we get back to what once was?

Well, we don't.

Our new skin is improved. It's thicker and stronger than what it was before. New skin represents how much our lives keep moving forward. That's all we can do at the end of the day, just keep moving forward.

Quinn wondered how many layers of skin she would have to shed before her sister finally forgave her. She wondered if there was anything left to forgive, if they were always going to be this broken. She felt like one of these snooping neighbours right now, hiding out on the balcony watching her sister hang out the washing. It was interesting at how much Frannie's fashion sense had dramatically changed since moving here. Gone were the jeans and the band shirts and everything that resembled a western American society. And instead there were bright shawls and long thin dresses. Staring at them Quinn remembered all the times she would just walk into Frannie's wardrobe and borrow her clothes. Now she couldn't even dream of asking her, it just felt so out of place. Like the basic traits of sisterhood were gone and now they were merely strangers.

"You can't hide out here forever,"

Quinn jumped more dramatically than what was needed. She turned to see Adrien leaning on the door frame, clearly just back from the beach. Quinn swore he looked browner than from just yesterday.

"I'm not hiding," she replied.

Adrien raised his eyes brows, before folding his arms; when he did so, Quinn wasn't sure whether he flexed all his muscles on purpose, or whether it was just the way his body reacted to the movement. Give her a year ago and she probably would have fainted at the sight of his body, but now?

Now all the could think about was how upsetting it was that Rachel had gone to the beach without her, and was most likely wearing next to nothing. Quinn was still trying to figure out how to undo Rachel's damn costume without her noticing.

"σας είναι πολύ!" Adrien replied in greek and Quinn immediately frowned.

Adrien laughed, "You are too!" he repeated.

"Listen Adrien, I don't need you swanning in here with just your board shorts telling me that I'm hiding from my sister, you don't know anything…"

"You like?" he asked spreading his arms.

Quinn faltered a moment.

"My board shorts?" he said, "You like the colour? Nice eh? Half price!"

Quinn snorted, god maybe he was gay.

"Quinn," he said shaking his head, "Frannie has talked about you eh! She has said some things about being sad and some things about being angry. You don't give her enough credit,"

"Enough credit!" Quinn rounded, "She's the one who left me, as soon as she found out I was pregnant!"

Adrien seemed to tense again, "Είμαι τόσο συγγνώμη γι' αυτό" he said bowing his head, "I am so sorry for your loss," he paused slightly, "You are very brave Quinn,"

Quinn looked at him, that was the first time someone outside her friends and family had said that.

"Brave hey?" she said.

Adrien shrugged, "eh it is different in Greece no? some women here have children as young as fifteen also,"

Quinn frowned, "I didn't know that,"

Adrien grinned, "Different culture no? But grief is the same in all the world,"

His accent was growing on her, even if there were parts she didn't understand, she gathered he meant well.

"Quinn" he said suddenly, "I'll tell you an old donkey tale eh? One that my grandfather told me,"

Quinn looked at him curiously, "Okay, if you want,"

He nodded a moment, "There was this one day, when a farmers donkey fell down his well in the back field. This donkey, well he cried and he cried for hours on end but the farmer did not know how to get him out no?" he stopped a moment, to make sure she was following, Quinn's nod to go on, kept him going.

"The farmer, well he chose that the donkey was too old and the well needed to be covered and so he asked his neighbours to come and to help him shovel the dirt into the well,"

Quinn felt her insides churn, was Adrien launching into some animal cruelty story?

"The donkey at the beginning, he cried horribly, until then he decided to quieten down. The neighbours eh, they were shocked, not knowing why the donkey was not crying. But after shovel loads later the farmer looked into the well," Adrien held his hands up, as though this was the twist in the story, "This donkey eh, with every shovel, he would shake off the dirt, and take a step upwards. The farmer and his neighbor continued to shovel and each time the donkey would shake the dirt and take a step up!"

Quinn wanted to laugh, the story was cute.

"And then Quinn!" he said this so excitedly, as though he had actually been there, "The donkey... he stepped right over the edge of the well and he went off happily no?" Adrien was looking at her as if this was the most amazing thing to have ever happened in Greece.

"Life Quinn," he said, "Will always throw dirt on you and try to bury you. But you do what the donkey did no? You shake off the dirt and you keep stepping upwards. You can step up out of the deepest wells as long as you just do not give up!"

Quinn smirked, "That was a good story Adrien," she replied.

"What do you Americans say eh?" He asked, "You shake it off?"

Quinn bit her lip, he was right.

"Shake it off Quinn," he shrugged, "Go talk to Frannie,"

"How do I talk to her?" Quinn objected, "When she won't talk to me..."

There was a slight grin that spread across Adrien's face and it made Quinn frown slightly.

"Ah Quinn! It is because you Fabray's are so stubborn!" he smiled, "You make the first move no?"

Quinn sighed, "You seem close to her..."

Adrien shrugged, "eh you know the Greeks are very close with the family and when your sister come... We love her,"

Quinn bit her lip, she loved her too before everything went down hill.

"Thanks Adrien,"

"Eh no problem," He shrugged "You are family now too no?"

Quinn nodded in response, Adrien was right, maybe this would be fine, maybe having he and Spyros as two brothers would come in handy.

"But before you do that... Your girlfriend says she wants to go shopping,"

Quinn looked to him, had he just referenced Rachel as her _girlfriend_? She didn't distinctively remember telling him.

"When did you speak to her?"

"At the beach," he said, "I like her,"

Quinn smirked, "She's one in a million,"

"She talks a lot though... How do you make her stop?"

Quinn wanted to laugh, how did she explain she would usually just use her lips to achieve this?

"I have ways," she responded grinning.

Adrien helped up his hands "Ahhhh," He responded, "Enough said,"

**. . .**

"ουσ. είκοσι euros," the woman smiled, "twenty euros please,"

Quinn smiled at her, "Do you think she'll like it?"

The woman glanced at her a moment, before staring at the bracelet, "Very nice," she replied in her heavy accent, "girlfriend?"

Quinn nodded.

You know it felt good this woman saying this. There was no judgement here, maybe this is why Aphrodite was a _greek_ goddess. The greeks didn't believe in gender all that much. Aphrodite had no set rules by which love was governed. Her title was the _goddess __of __love_.

Love between humans, not genders.

Quinn paid the woman, before taking the small paper bag from her and smiling. She took one last glance at the jewellery spread across the table of the small stall before turning and trailing back up the narrow alley way. She found Rachel right where she left her, waiting in line for ice cream. Quinn snuck behind her, wrapping two arms around Rachel's waist and squeezing, smirking as Rachel jumped gently. She relaxed as soon as she felt Quinn's breath on her neck.

"You smell like cinnamon," Rachel said, leaning back into her.

"You smell like salt," Quinn responded.

Which was true, Rachel's skin was browner, her hair a little mattered from the sea water, and traces of sand still gripped her body.

Quinn loved it.

"Baby," Quinn said, "Are we going to wait in this line just for ice cream?"

Rachel turned, "Are you kidding fives, this is literally the best ice cream in Santorini, you have no idea, I would live off it, if it wouldn't make me the size of a house,"

Quinn snorted, "Impossible,"

"No extremely possible," Rachel responded, "Would you still love me if I looked like him?"

Quinn glanced to where Rachel nodded and grinned widely at the older greek man striding along his balcony terrace, wearing nothing but some small red boxer shorts; and his great big belly on show for the world.

"I would love you, if you had three heads, you were purple and you sang like a dying vacuum,"

Rachel put her shocked face on, "Quinn Fabray, my singing will never fail, it will merely enhance, to the heights of _Barbara_,"

Quinn rolled her eyes and squeezed Rachel tighter, biting her shoulder playfully, "Cock," she murmured.

Rachel grinned, "You wish I had one,"

Before Quinn could stop herself from choking, Rachel had already reached the counter and ordered them both ice cream, whilst Quinn stood coughing and the man behind the counter shouted at his wife to get some water for the american.

**. . .**

"Was I right, or was I right?"

Quinn smiled through the taste of the ice cream against her lips, "You were right," she agreed.

They sat on the small stone steps just beside an old catholic church with a great blue dome. The view was breathtaking. To the left dozens of white houses littered the mountain side, with washing lines extending from the walls to the windows and clothes blowing in the gentle breeze. In front of them stretched a great wide ocean front, and if you squinted you could see the island of _Thirassia_, which according to Spyros, was once a part of the island of Santorini.

"I love it here Quinn," Rachel said, inhaling the fresh air around them.

Quinn smiled again, she did too, there was something about Santorini, with it being characterised by its picturesque white painted villages built on top of high cliffs. The other day, when Quinn had followed her parents to visit the fish market, down by the docks, an old fisherman had explained the reasons behind the peoples choice to build so far away from the sea.

"_Pirates_," he had growled, swinging his arm like a sword and Quinn had laughed.

"_long times ago, we believed the pirates could not reach us from high up, we would see their ships coming from a far_," he had explained.

Then he had handed Quinn the biggest fish she had ever seen her life, and told her he had cleaned and washed the insides, and she needed to cook it for her family. Carrying the damn thing back to the house had nearly made her gag.

Even so, the village was so quaint and fresh and people filtered in and out of the narrow streets, laughing and yelling in accents from all around the world. At night restaurants would glow in between walkways and you could hear music in nearly every corner you turned. All the houses and the shops were white, with blue doors and painted red or blue window frames. There were wind chimes hanging from balconies, and flowers sprouting from pot plants by the doors.

"Quinn?"

Quinn turned slightly, "mmmm?"

Rachel leant in and kissed her, touching Quinn's nose with her own, "I love you so much,"

Quinn grinned, "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Read my mind before I get to say it first?"

Rachel laughed, "It's my last name Quinn, alphabetically I come first,"

Quinn growled playfully, "That's not an excuse,"

Rachel giggled as Quinn tickled her, pulling her between her legs, "Can I tell you a secret?" Rachel asked, facing her.

"What?"

"You'll always come first to me,"

Quinn melted faster than what the ice cream did. Maybe this is what happens. You'll never know when it will happen, you'll never know what age or what time of your life because it will just happen unexpectantly. Maybe it happens more than once, maybe it happens with different people. But you've gone from spending your life so far, wandering through days searching for someone who will put you first. Searching for someone you will make you their priority. Sure most people have their family, most people have their friends, but its a different type of first, coming from someone you're in love with. Maybe they don't have to say it, maybe its just in the things they do.

But you'll feel it, you'll feel it because it's like they've taken a blanket, wrapped it around you and said, here, I'd rather you have the blanket then me, I want you to be always warm.

Quinn cupped the side of Rachel's face with her hand, bringing her closer, "Sometimes I wish you had been my first,"

Rachel frowned, "Your first for what?"

Quinn parted Rachel's lips and ran her tongue along her teeth, that familar way of tasting her, that feeling they had grown so used to. She could kiss Rachel forever.

"My first," Quinn repeated softer.

Rachel seemed to understand, "Well, you didn't really know me back then,"

"I'm an idiot," Quinn whispered, pressing her lips softly to Rachel's cheek, before drawing a lazy pattern with her tongue down the cusp of her neck.

Rachel shivered.

"Maybe we could just pretend?"

Quinn smirked, "That you deflowered me?"

Rachel looked defiant, "Well how is it fair that you get that title and I don't,"

Quinn laughed, "Shutup," she whispered kissing her again, "I love you smalls, more than I have ever or will ever love anything in this world,"

Rachel smiled through Quinn's lips, running her fingers across her thigh towards the hem line of Quinn's t-shirt. She playfully settled her hands underneath the fabric to rest of Quinn's torso, creating patterns of her own.

"I love it when you do that," Quinn barely managed, she was already lost again.

She felt Rachel roll her finger up and down her torso, tracing patterns like always. That was maybe their favourite thing to do, trace story maps across each others bodies. Because these stories were ones, no one else would ever be able to read. They had been drawn in invisible ink with just the touch of each others fingertips.

That's what intimacy is though right, it all starts and ends with someone's touch.

Quinn threw the rest of her ice cream in the near by bin and grabbed Rachel's hand.

"Fives," Rachel muttered, "I would have finished that,"

"Hurry up," Quinn ordered and immediately Rachel followed her.

Quinn trailed through the alley ways, retracing her steps from before, it was funny how quickly she had learnt these small cobbled back streets. It was almost like she was just born to know these alleys, like she'd grown up here.

Quinn stopped just short of the small sign that read Property of _Venizelos_, Spyros and Frannie's house stretched across a good deal of land, but the thing Quinn had been more interested in was the small pool house squashed in the corner of the backyard.

She clicked open the side gate and dragged Rachel across the courtyard.

"Where are we?" Rachel asked trailing behind her, trying to keep up with Quinn's strides.

"Their backyard,"

"It's this big?" Rachel asked.

Quinn didnt answer, she pushed open the small blue door and smiled. It was exactly the way she had seen from the back patio the other day, whilst she sat with her mother drinking tea. She had squinted and peered in the small window and seen what she now saw. A little bed tucked away in the corner, and a room full of sea side paintings and replicas of an ancient Santorini. She gathered their bags and put them on the small round table before turning to Rachel.

"I have a request," Quinn smiled, pulling out the bracelet she had bought earlier to which Rachel's eyes widened at the sight of it.

"Anything," she murmured, staring at it.

"I want you to wear this," Quinn said softly, pushing it gently onto Rachel's tiny wrist.

Rachel nodded, still staring at it, as it glistened in the sunlight peeping through the tares in the curtain hanging from the window.

"And nothing else," Quinn finished biting her lip.

Rachel immediately grinned up at her, "Oh really," she responded and she reached and unbuttoned Quinn's top button of her shirt.

"You first," Quinn replied, leaning and kissing the corner of Rachel's lips, she could already feel Rachel's skin a blaze.

"Together," Rachel responded, and she held her arms above her head.

Quinn pulled her shirt off easily.

"Can we make this a habit," Rachel grinned pulling at Quinn's hair, before clipping her short's button.

"And before you know it ill be sending you to _Jerry Springer_ for sex rehabilitation," Quinn replied playfully.

Rachel laughed in response, "It's not my fault I have a girlfriend that looks like you,"

"Clothes off now," Quinn ordered.

The game started again, Quinn chose an item of Rachel's and then Rachel chose an item of Quinn's and before either of them could even think about breathing, they had collapsed on the bed, amongst the sheets and that feeling had returned.

"Your skin always feel on fire..." Rachel muttered trailing her fingertips up Quinn's spine.

Quinn shifted to rest in between her, on top of her, pressing as hard as she possibly could so Rachel would only want more.

"I can't do this with anyone else," she suddenly said, looking up at Quinn.

Quinn stopped kissing her neck, to stare at her, "What do you mean?"

"Be like this," Rachel tried again.

"Be like what smalls," Quinn whispered and then she grinned, "Be naked?"

Rachel huffed, "No, be open and exposed like this, fives you know me, every inch and every part and I dont even know what to do with that anymore,"

"You keep it thats what yo do," Quinn replied gently, "You hold onto it, and you never, ever let me go,"

Rachel trailed her thumb down the side of Quinn's cheek, pushing a stray cusp of hair behind her ear, "You know what is so strange,"

"That Rachel Berry could make me so wet right now?" Quinn smirked.

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Watch the sex talk" she responded.

"But you like it," Quinn said softly biting her collarbone.

"And you're trying to keep us away from _Jerry Springer_"

Quinn growled, "We are not going to have a conversation, when all I want to do is touch you right now..."

"Fives!" Rachel said gripping her, "I'm trying to tell you that its strange that it doesnt matter you're a girl, all that matters, is that you love me as much as I love you... right...?"

She did it again, Quinn nearly exploded.

"Can I make love to you now?" she replied kissing her softly.

"Never stop," Rachel replied and Quinn laughed as she pulled the sheets over their heads.

* * *

><p>When you've finished your shower, have you ever crouched down and curled your arms around your legs and just sat in the shower or in the bathtub for a few moments staring at the remaining water droplets that haven't yet washed away? Have you ever wanted to wash away with them? Not to leave forever, but just to wash away and see where they come from, see the ocean or the rivers of the world and know that they're are millions of other droplets out there just like you, hoping to find a tub strong enough to keep them safe.<p>

Quinn glanced at the goosebumps spreading down her arms, she shivered as she hugged herself, feeling her hair stuck to her back and her skin still wet. She'd had the longest shower in the world, thought up an entire speech to confront Frannie with and was now frozen in a fetal position in the bathtub.

She jumped slightly as a knock came at the door.

"Baby did you drown or something?"

"No a donkey is keeping me hostage," she replied with a smirk.

The door was thrown open and Rachel burst in holding fists, "Touch my girl and die," she mimicked.

Quinn laughed, "Robe me?"

Rachel huffed grabbing the towel and holding it open for Quinn to step into, "I like it better without this," she grinned.

"_Jerry Springer_" Quinn responded flatly, wrapping it around herself, while Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Frannie's downstairs," Rachel prompted and Quinn immediately looked at her.

"She doesn't want..."

"Be the bigger person," Rachel cut her off.

Quinn sighed, she could feel the goosebumps growing down the sides of her arms again.

"I'm scared," she replied.

Rachel shrugged, wrapping her arms around her, "And I'm right here when its all over, no matter what happens,"

Quinn kissed her softly, "Okay," she whispered, "I'll speak to her,"

**. . .**

When Quinn had first heard of the tsunami that hit Japan just recently, she wondered how on earth anyone was capable of surviving and rebuilding from something so disastrous. Amongst the hundreds and thousands of survival stories, there was one in particular that had caught her complete attention. Two days after the tsunami had hit, after the waves had left their destruction, the rescue workers had searched the ruins, a man was found, miles out at sea riding on nothing but the roof of his house. As Quinn had read the article, she imagined what it would have felt like to be that man, sliding out into this vast ocean of nothingness. Floating for hours watching the tendrils of smoke rise from the country behind him, fires doting the coast, the loss of everything he had called home.

It would have just been an ordinary day wouldn't it?

For all those people, commuting from work or school or daily activities, and suddenly everything is thrown upside down. In the hour that this man would normally be winding down for the day, he was now being pulled out into this watery oblivion under a ceiling of grey cloud, the disconcerting smell of diesel in the air and uncertainty of survival. The article had concluded with what the man had felt in all the time it took for him to be rescued, he had said his body had thrummed with such adrenaline, it was almost as if he could feel nothing.

He said that the only way to survive in this world is to empty your mind of all the negative memory it possesses, because you're an amnesiac speck who survives on a force that most of us aren't aware of. Be ready, he had concluded, be ready to fight and to stand against the biggest things even if those things are as vast and as dark as the ocean.

Quinn trailed her way down the stairs and made for the kitchen, she popped her head around the corner and felt her stomach flip at the sight of Frannie.

It was now or never.

_'be __ready, __be __ready __and __just __do __what __you __need __to __Quinn',_ she half whispered to herself.

Quinn stepped into the light and cleared her throat softly.

Frannie glanced up from where she had been stirring some type of sauce over the stove.

"Can I talk to you?" Quinn asked.

Her sister didn't say anything in return, she simply glared at her before returning back to the stove.

Quinn huffed irritably, "Listen, there was time not too long ago when two kids had a competition to stand on their heads,"

Quinn swore she saw the hair on Frannie's neck rise instantly.

"and in that competition they swore to always remain sisters" Quinn pressed on.

Frannie stopped stirring to glance at her, "Quinn," she murmured.

"No," Quinn whimpered, "I didn't ask to fall pregnant, I didn't ask for any of what happened to happen, it just did, and I needed you, I needed you and you weren't there..."

"You had barely turned sixteen," Frannie replied.

"It was a mistake,"

"You were meant to be captain of the celibacy club Quinn, for gods sake do you have any idea how that looked?"

"How it looked on you? is that what this is about? how everything effected you?" Quinn responded, she could feel the unrepented anger building already.

"No this is about, how I didnt raise you to be a _slut_,"

It was like a gun shot had gone off, one pull of the trigger and the word pierced through the space between them, and shot straight through Quinn. Her sisters immediately realised what she had said.

"That came out wrong," she stuttered.

"The truth never comes out wrong," Quinn replied icily.

Frannie sighed sharply, placing the wooden spoon on the bench and turning the stove down slightly.

"You want the truth? the hard cold truth?"

Quinn didnt know whether she actually wanted it served on a platter, but she nodded anyway.

"I was so disspainted in you Quinn, because thats exactly a mistake I expected from somone like Santana or god, Brittany even, not you..." she took a deep breath, "and then on the other hand I wanted to literally kill Puck. I expected more from you, I wanted to shake you alive and ask you what the hell you had been thinking,"

"Then why didnt you?" Quinn asked angrily, "why did you just shut down in the way you did? and then you just up and left as well? you literally walked out Frannie, walked out to a new fucking country and disspeained and left me,"

Frannie wrapped her arms around her belly, stroking a circle. It made Quinn shiver a little, god maybe this tension wasn't good for the baby.

"Quickly," Frannie said suddenly, "Come here,"

Quinn tentatively stepped around the bench towards her, eyeing Frannie's rounded stomach as though it was some time bomb about to explode. She watched as Frannie reached for her hand and drew it onto her stomach. Quinn stood in front of her sister, her hand over her stomach, staring at the roundness of it through her dress. And then she felt it. It was a flutter at first, but then another kick, and another, and Quinn could feel the baby moving. This is what a baby inside you felt like, big enough that you could feel it under the surface of the skin.

Quinn could feel the tears sting the corners of her eyes, "Frannie," she whispered.

"The baby kicks when you're near," Frannie said softly, "It's like it senses you,"

Quinn stood ridged for a moment, not knowing how the hell to even continue with this, was she supposed to just leave it all hanging in the air, wait for Frannie to decide whether or not she wanted to mend things. And then without warning, her sister extended the olive branch.

"You know, I really need to you up there with me," she said softly, "On the altar I mean, as my maid of honour, all this time I've thought about how much i need you on my wedding day, and how much i wasn't there for you when you needed me beside you..."

Quinn watch her grab the tea towl and dab her eyes with it, "and it made me realise the difference between us Quinn,"

Quinn still stared at her, she swore every part of her body had gone numb.

"The difference," Frannie said looking at her, "Is that you're selfless,"

"Frannie," Quinn started.

"I'm sorry," she said firmly, "I don't know what else to say, other than I'm sorry,"

Like most things that are broken, the first steps to mending them, always start with the thing most of us are too proud, or stubborn or ignorant to acknowledge. It starts with the most simplest thing you could offer a person, and that's an apology.

* * *

><p>There is a small rural arabic village called <em>Saadat Shahr<em> in southern Iran which is also known as _Astronomy Town_, because the inhabitants of this village have demonstrated a remarkable passion for sky gazing. A greek traveller visiting the village one summer, decided to return home to Santorini and create a festival dedicated to the stars each year.

He said the inhabitants of _Astronomy Town_ had such a passion for the sky, that he felt it deserved to be celebrated in Greece as well. Now once a year, the towns hold a festival to celebrate the 'shining lights' of the sky. Small stalls are set up all through the towns and they offer drinks and food and jewellery pieces to buy and to sell. Residents leave their front doors open for people to spend the night on their couches or lying in their front yards gazing at the sky. Adrien explained that one year he ended up sleeping in a tin shed, in someone's back yard on the other side of town, to which Quinn promopty confiscated the bottle of vodka he had been drinking from.

The three of them had spent the past three hours, wandering through Santorini, drinking and playing games with locals and travellers.

Quinn watched as the man removed the cup from the surface of the table and Adrien groaned.

"Eh, you show me how to do it no?"

"I do not share secrets!" the man replied and Quinn smirked, Adrien had been failing at this cup game for the past twenty minutes.

Suddenly Quinn felt Rachel return to her side again, "I have to show you this really cool thing," she whispered in her ear.

Quinn raised her eyebrows, she was clearly tipsy, "Where and what is it?" Quinn asked.

Rachel grinned sheepishly, knotting her fingers through Quinn's and pulling her away from the crowd. Quinn felt herself being dragged behind the striped tent on the opposite side of the lane way. She smirked as Rachel pushed her up against the metal pole.

"You're so hot Quinn Fabray," she whispered, clawing at her shirt.

"Stop," Quinn protested, trying to push her away, "We're in a public space,"

Rachel pursed her lips, "Like I care,"

Quinn trembled as Rachel walked her fingers down her torso and then broke the barrier of Quinn's pants.

"I'll take you now I think" Rachel said.

Quinn quivered, "Rachel, we can just go to the _south side of anywhere _again, with the water and the stars, its much nicer,"

"No that's too long to wait," Rachel replied and she fused her lips to Quinn's.

"Its ten minutes away!" Quinn muffled.

"Shut up," Rachel replied impatiently, and Quinn felt her fingers slip further, she wanted pass out.

"God," she whispered sinking her teeth into Rachel's lips, "Why are you so good at that,"

Rachel smirked slightly, rolling her tongue along the roof of Quinn's mouth.

"Quinn?" came a voice.

Quinn tensed.

"Ignore him," Rachel muttered in response.

"But we left him!" Quinn replied and then she lost complete track again as she felt Rachel's fingers play tunes of their own.

"Rachel?" Adriens voice came again, "Guys? Where did you go eh? We have to go to the dance party eh?"

Quinn knew Adrien would find them, and she was not about to be caught in a compromising situation, especially when things were only just starting to smooth over. God she hadn't even had the _'yes Frannie I am also dating a girl conversation' _yet.

Quinn grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled it reluctantly out of her own pants.

"You just _vajected_ me," Rachel said irritably and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"That's not a word," she replied.

"No it's a disaster, that's what it is," she responded.

Before Quinn could reply, Adrien had rounded the corner.

"Disappear no?" he asked, "The dance party is this way..."

Quinn half laughed as Rachel huffed and stormed after him.

When someone talks about music, or about about dancing, the number one thing they'll tell you, is that its always about the way you feel. But come to think about it, a lot of things in this world are about the way you feel. Maybe it could be plausible to say that humans actually _like _to feel.

Humans like to feel love, to feel hurt and to feel pain, to feel happy and sad and all the other emotions that come with being on earth, because it helps to shape us, it helps us to keep living.

_Feeling is being alive_.

The tent had been strung with dozens of fairy lights, it was bigger than a circus ring tent and speakers had been placed so high, you could almost feel the music washing over you.

By now, Quinn was just dizzy with happiness.

"I love this," Quinn said over the music, "I love everything about this moment,"

Before Rachel could respond, the next song was spun into the mix and Quinn smiled, it was their song right now, the song that meant summer, the song that meant freedom, the song that meant being alive.

Rachel closed her eyes and sang with it, "Yellow diamonds in the light, now we're standing side by side, as a shadow crosses mine, what it takes to come alive..."

Quinn laughed, "It's the way I'm feeling, I just cant deny, but I've got to let it go, we found love in a hopeless place,"

The sky rained light, the music spun in all different directions, there was heat, there was her dancing girlfriend, laughing people their age, just like them, different colors, different mixes, but all loving the music and the night.

You'll never feel as connected to anyone as you do when you're dancing under a ceiling of swirling lights, to a a song that everyone recognises and a beat that everyone feels.

It was summer, it was greece, it was the South Side of Anywhere.

* * *

><p>Little Readers! honesty anything you want to ask me... ask me on tumblr or twitter because at the rate of my internet connections... I have more access to that... than I do to try and respond during chapter updates! I answer as many as humanly possible and im always up for a chat :) you just gotta ask! I will try update again soon... but I'm all over the place haha<p>

belikecourtney (twitter)

itsonlyyforever (tumblr)

Also... stay with me! I know its a long stetch... but I promise once I'm back home with normal internet conneciton speeds... I will pump out these chapters!

1) the story has a LOT more to come, and is absolutely not over yet...

2) sorry for spelling mistakes/grammer... I literally had a 20 minute time limit to edit this before the whole thing shut down

3) I get my inspiration from anywhere and everywhere... some of you ask... oh was this based on this... and I sit here either knowing what you mean or having NO idea what you're talking about :P its cute

Hope all is well! I miss you guys!

Court x


	31. Chapter 30

Little Readers!

Hope all is well my lovelies... as always, happy reading and tell me your thoughts!

P.S okay so Naya Rivera got way under my skin with that Adele mash up (thanks to my Stef for sending it) so therefore Brittana fans... I put some focus on them for you this chapter... You're welcome! ;)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 30<strong>

The Summer in Greece

_White long dress, with a blue church dome and sun to fill eternity_

* * *

><p>When Quinn was growing up her favourite story was <em>Peter<em>_Pan_. She read the picture books, she read the novel and she watched the movie. There was always one particular part about the story that made her heart skip beats. The part about being in between sleep and awake. The part where it feels so real even if you're still dreaming.

Peter told Wendy that was where he would always love her. That was where he would always be waiting.

If someone asked you to wait forever would you do that for them?

Could you live forever in someone's in between?

Quinn shifted in the sheets slightly, glancing at the clock beside the bedside. 7am, how the hell was she awake?

She trailed her fingertips up the side of Rachel's arm; her skin felt so soft and so delicate as Quinn watched the light from outside begin to creep through the window and fall over Rachel's body.

"You can never not touch me, can you, Quinn Fabray,"

Quinn tilted her head slightly, "You're awake?"

"I work in synchronization with you," she smirked, with her eyes still closed.

"What are we doing today?" Quinn asked leaning and kissing the corner of Rachel's lips.

"You always do that," Rachel said softly, turning over towards her.

"Do what?"

"Kiss the corners of my lips," Rachel replied and she looked at her, "Why?"

Quinn bit her lip, "For a stupid reason..."

Rachel huffed groggily, "Tell me!"

Quinn laughed, sliding on top of her, tangling their hands, "You know Peter Pan?"

Rachel nodded, pressing harder against her.

"Well the part about Wendy always having her secret kiss..." Quinn shrugged, "Her secret kiss was always hidden in the corner of her lips, where only Peter Pan could find it..."

Rachel grinned, gripping the back of Quinn's neck, "Fives are you trying to tell me that you're the Peter Pan to my Wendy?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Well when you say it like that..."

Rachel laughed, "Oh god you are so gay..."

"Smalls!" Quinn growled.

"And I am so in love with you..." Rachel interrupted, "My very own Peter Pan..."

Quinn slipped her hand between Rachel's legs, "Ready for never never land?" she whispered.

"Christ..." Rachel exhaled.

Quinn grinned into her lips.

"Quinn?"

And the early morning moment was ruined by a voice Quinn was not expecting.

"Frannie?" Quinn asked, immediately pushing up off Rachel.

"Oh you're up, good, get dressed and meet me in the kitchen..."

Quinn frowned and then looked back at Rachel.

"Well what are you waiting for?" Rachel hissed, "Don't make her wait!"

"Wait for what?" Quinn replied and then she frowned, "Rachel, if you've been doing your match making thing..."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Fives it doesn't take a genius to realise you're sister is trying to make some sort of peace. She obviously wants you to share in her wedding, and be in her baby's life... do you want to stop that?"

Quinn ran her tongue across her lips, "No," she muttered.

"Out!" Rachel instructed, "When you lick your lips like that, it makes me want to..."

"Getting up!" Quinn replied, bounding out from the sheets as Rachel rolled back over.

**. . .**

Do you think things would be easier, if someone came and told you that the world was going to try and tear you down, before it actually did?

You think you're made of glass don't you.

You think that the silence around you right now means you have no chance.

Where are you?

What are you doing right in this moment while you read this, what are you thinking?

Maybe you and I are thinking the same thing.

That you wonder why people have to take everything from you, break everything that you are, exactly the way someone would break glass.

But do you know how glass is made?

Not house ware glass, the thing you're probably drinking out of, that's silica, that comes from fine white sand or pulverized sand, which is heated, cooled and formed by man.

But rather _natural_ glass.

Natural glass is made when lightening strikes sandy soil. The air and moisture that is present in the soil, are rapidly heated and this resultant explosion like expansion then forms a central tubular void. So each time lightening strikes this sand, glass is made and formed.

So that just might prove that maybe we all come from the sky. We're brought down by lightening and made into these glass objects, just waiting for someone to take everything we have.

You should stand above them.

Rise into the sky again.

Glass breaks. But lightning shines.

"Quinn?"

Quinn looked up from where she had been staring at the smoothie in front of her.

"Jesus," Frannie said smirking, "You were a day dreamer as a kid, but I think you've permanently planted yourself in the clouds,"

Quinn half smiled, "I just like to think a lot,"

Frannie nodded, "Thinking is good, have you thought about what college you're going to apply to?"

Quinn sighed a little, "Can I get through the rest of high school first?"

Her sister shrugged, "Senior year comes and goes Quinn, it won't matter what happens, you'll graduate and suddenly everyone's going in separate directions,"

Quinn bit her lip, how the hell could the New Directions ever become the separate directions?

"I have no idea what I want to be," Quinn said.

Frannie shrugged, "You don't need to Quinn, you just need to know what you love,"

_Rachel_.

"I don't know,"

Frannie raised her eyebrows, "Have you been writing lately?"

Quinn half smiled at the letter she had been writing Rachel, "A little," she replied.

Frannie sighed, "Quinn for gods sake don't throw you're talent away. You were always so damn good at english and history..."

Quinn sipped the smoothie and allowed its coolness to run down the back of her throat, "I'll figure it out, your wedding is kind of on my mind right now more than anything..."

Frannie slumped slightly, "I just want to be married already you know,"

"What's it like?" Quinn suddenly said, "To find the person you want to marry? What does it feel like?"

Frannie tilted her head, "You know sometimes I feel Spyros when my stomach turns. Every time I shiver I feel him, like he's crawling under my skin. If someone does that to you, marry them Quinn. Because chances are, they've permanently reserved a place inside you, and if you don't link with them, well you're heart will ache forever..."

"Frannie, I need to tell you..."

"I know," she half whispered, "Mum has already had the talk with me..."

Quinn felt the knots growing in her throat, "It just happened, it started with letters..."

Frannie frowned, "Letter's?"

"It's such a long story..." Quinn sighed.

Frannie held her hand out to the waiter, "Another two smoothies please?" she asked, "I have time," she said staring at her, "I owe you more time than I can count Quinn...talk to me... I want to know..."

Those words rang throughout Quinn's ears, the fact her sister wanted to know about her now.

Was it too soon? They had to start somewhere didn't they? Frannie was trying?

God so many questions and they were just filling her mind like pictures filling a camera.

"Okay," Quinn exhaled.

It was time to start again, it was time to be sisters again.

* * *

><p>"You're father and I are going out on the boat with Spyros' parents today,"<p>

Quinn placed the fresh orange juice back into the refrigerator before looking at her mother, "Okay, have fun..."

"Which means we will also have dinner on a small little Island just off the coast, you and Rachel will need to make prior dinner arrangements,"

Quinn felt herself smirk before she could catch herself.

"Quinn Fabray, just because you will have this house to yourself..."

"Mum!" Quinn said, holding her hands in the air, "We share a room...?"

Judy closed her eyes briefly, "That is far too much information,"

"Why because we're girls?"

Judy sighed, "No because I am your MOTHER. Why do you get so defensive all the time?"

Quinn sighed a little, "Because you never acknowledge that Rachel is my girlfriend, you introduce her to everyone has my _friend_,"

Judy rubbed her eyes, "Darling, I'm just..."

"You have to start getting use to it mother," Quinn cut her off, "Rachel is not going anywhere..."

Judy's phone suddenly ringing, interrupted her next rebuttal.

"Hello?" she answered and Quinn slumped against the bench folding her arms.

"Oh Christiana how are you," she said, "Yes... yes... we're on our way, Spyros is bringing the car around... no... no Quinn will be fine... she's staying in with her frien..." Judy paused slightly, "She's staying in with her girlfriend tonight..."

Quinn felt herself rise off the bench.

"Yes... yes... see you soon..." Judy waffled before hanging up her phone.

"Mum..." Quinn started, but Judy held up her hand.

"I will try harder," she said, "I am very proud that you and Frannie started talking again, I think that was..." she inhaled softly, "That was very brave of you..."

"Mother," Quinn smirked, as Judy became flustered and started searching for something to dab her eyes with.

"My girls," she choked, "Up on the altar together, the way it should be... your father and I... are so..."

"Woman go and get your things before you bring on the wrinkles..." Quinn said shaking her head and she watched her mother bustle from the kitchen, still muttering about tissues.

Quinn sighed to herself, before making her way back down the hall and heading for the guest bedroom. She frowned as she saw the door had been shut. Quinn reached to open, before realising it had been locked.

"Smalls?" she said, "Why is this door locked without me inside?"

No answer.

"Smalls?"

No answer.

"Rachel?" Quinn repeated more forcefully.

There was a slight movement behind the door before a piece of paper shot out from the crack underneath.

Quinn frowned, reaching and scooping the paper up, before unfolding it.

_"She walks in beauty,_

_like the night of cloudless climbs and starry skies,_

_and all that's best of dark and bright,_

_meet her in her aspect and her eyes,"_

_Lord Byron_

Quinn held the paper to her heart, wanting to literally break down the door to get to Rachel's lips. Before she could figure out how to do that without dislocating her collarbone, a pen was pushed under the crack as well, causing Quinn to smile broadly, clearly the girl behind the door, wanted to play the old game. Quinn scribbled her response and allowed it to start.

For the next half an hour, they sat, with Rachel on one side and Quinn on the other, scribbling things in the way they had always done.

Quinn bit the end of the pencil, staring at Rachel's last quote before scribbling, _'_

_'Do __you __know__ why __blankets __are __so __comforting? __because __they __keep__ you __warm__ without __even__ saying __a __word_...'

She pushed the paper under the door again, and waited. But a response didn't come, instead there was an unclipping of a lock, the door was opened and Quinn felt Rachel wrap her arms around her own shoulders.

There was silence for a moment and then Quinn smirked, "Baby what are you doing?"

"Not saying a word," she whispered.

**. . .**

"Panicking!"

"Stop panicking," Quinn soothed, "We don't have to ride them again Rachel,"

"They gave me the mule!" she replied, trying to fix the enormous hat on head, "The mule Fives, the mule... that's an insult, do they not know who I am?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "You are such a drama queen,"

"Thank you," Rachel smiled.

"Ένα άλλο φερόμενο" the man said coming out from under his small watch post, "You wish to ride back up the mountain too no?"

Quinn looked at her girlfriend smirking, their first donkey experience may have just been the funniest thing she'd ever witnessed, and she was so happy she was able to film the whole thing.

"Yes please," she responded handing him the euros.

"Up?" Rachel splattered, "We go back up?"

Quinn nodded, "Baby if we do something, we do it all the way,"

"Then stop giving me half orgasms," Rachel retaliated and the man looked at Quinn quizzically.

Quinn flushed red, "We keep getting interrupted!" she said under her breath.

Rachel grinned, cupping Quinn's cheeks, "God I love embarrassed Quinn,"

"I'm putting this on Youtube,"

Rachel's jaw dropped, "Oh god, this is one of those celebrity flaw videos that go viral,"

"Who's famous?" Quinn asked.

"ME!" Rachel pouted.

Quinn laughed, "Oh that's right,"

"Eh, on you go," the man ushered and he scooped Rachel up, plucking her thin out of the air and placing her on another grey donkey.

Quinn saddled the chestnut one in front of her easily enough, it was Rachel's height that got the better of her.

"Από εσάς να," he said and immediately the donkeys began to pull back up the mountain.

These rides were very peculiar. You could either ride down the mountain and back up again, or you could catch the cable car that ran parallel to the cobble steps in which the donkeys had paved their course. What Quinn had failed to realise was that the reason the donkeys practically run _down_the mountain, was because they can see the water, which means _food_ and _drink_ at the base of their journey. So hence watching Rachel's previous mule take off in front of her, with Rachel screaming in the process was definitely video worthy.

Riding back up the mountain was a little different. All the donkeys seemed to just follow each other. Scattered down the mountain side were small little stools, sat upon by little old greek men, who would guide the donkey's back onto the path if they had either come to a halt or were tangled with other passers. Each of the men had tall wooden sticks with bells; and they would rattle these each time the donkeys weren't following instruction.

"You okay?" Quinn laughed, as her donkey finally caught up with Rachel's.

"Oh we're fine," she replied, patting the back of its neck, "It likes Barbra too,"

Quinn shook her head as Rachel continued to sing the animal Barbara classics, all mashed into one big lullaby.

Quinn would never tire of Rachel's voice.

And then both the donkeys just stopped. Just like that, side by side in the middle of the trail.

"Ahem," Rachel said kicking her legs slightly, "Why have you stopped?"

Quinn looked down at her donkey, it's face was a little expressionless; and it seemed to be just staring at Rachel's donkey.

"Sir," Rachel said still patting its neck, "I kindly ask you to continue you with our stroll,"

"Baby you did not just call the donkey a sir?" Quinn snorted.

"I have another talent," Rachel shrugged, "Donkey whisperer,"

Quinn laughed, moving slightly in the saddle, "Come on!" she whispered, "Let's go!"

She had no idea where the little Greek men were, she could hear the bells still going though, and she was watching as other passengers were passing them by.

"Why are they not moving?" Quinn asked, "They cant be that tired, these are the change over ones, they've been sleeping all afternoon!"

"Maybe they're lovers?" Rachel shrugged, watching as hers nudged Quinn's.

Quinn sighed and looked out over the mountain, to the docks and the ocean below, she felt her breath being robbed from her again.

"Smalls," she said, but Rachel was to busy staring at Quinn's donkey.

"Baby, your donkey has the longest eyelashes in the universe, its so pretty..."

"Rachel," Quinn repeated, "Rachel look!"

Rachel stopped staring at the animal to look out over the edge and to what Quinn was pointing at.

"God," Rachel muttered.

According to an ancient Greek philosopher, scientist and healer; all matter is comprised of four elements: earth, water, fire and air, which he then related back to the Gods and Goddesses to explain natural wonders.

"The sky Quinn," Rachel whispered.

But Quinn could already see it, she could already see how perfectly the clouds had aligned in front of the sun, and had created all but an opening for the rays to slip through.

That was it though, the opening through the clouds was the exact shape of a star.

"These donkeys must know you're my star," Rachel said and then she leant towards her donkeys ear, "I want a million dollars..."

"Smalls," Quinn said raising her eyes brows.

Rachel shrugged and then smirked, "I want my girlfriend to give me a completed orgasm..."

"RACHEL!" Quinn huffed.

And suddenly the donkeys started back up the mountain again.

**. . .**

_Blaise Pascal_ was quoted once, for saying that ''_The __heart__ has__ reasons __that __reason __cannot __know."_ Perhaps what he was implying, that love and reason do not go together. What one must do instead is try to understand that emotions, one way or another, are just raw. They are the truth. Sometimes just a little bit, sometimes there's more to it, but really everything you feel just depends on you. On how you taste it, on how you face it and chase it, after all, this is your life, it's your say, no one else's. What happened to a little romance in people's lives though. What happened to opening car doors, telling someone they're beautiful or insisting that a picnic on Sunday afternoon would be a much better alternative. In Quinn's opinion, this is why Rachel Berry was a perfect girlfriend.

She was a diehard romantic.

Quinn grinned stripping the post-it note from the wall,

_'Keep going, take another sip from the wine glass...'_

She rolled her eyes before sipping and then continuing down the hallway to the find the next post-it note. Rachel had stuck it to the floral vase near the lamp stand.

_'Turn left at the end of the hallway, go through the kitchen'_

Quinn laughed, side stepping around the hall table and trailing through the kitchen, the air smelt so good, Rachel had definitely brought food.

She reached and plucked the blue post-it note from the fridge.

_'Take off all your clothes...'_

Quinn rolled her eyes again.

_'...kidding! but you rolled your eyes didn't you... twirl in a circle and count to ten'_

Smiling Quinn closed her eyes, twirled in a circle and then counted to ten, she wasn't sure whether Rachel had done this to make her deliriously dizzy, but either way she was buzzing so much, her smile just wouldn't disappear.

Quinn picked a yellow post-it note off the telephone connected to the wall.

_'If we're ever separated.. you need to call me every night because I can't live without your voice... walk towards the dining room.'_

Quinn sighed, she would definitely need to hear Rachel's voice every night too.

The last note had been left on the door to the dining room; reaching gently Quinn read what Rachel had written.

_'What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us'- Ralph Waldo Emerson_

Grinning, Quinn opened the door and found her girlfriend standing next to the table, with plates and food set.

"You didn't!" Quinn grinned.

Rachel shrugged, "I would absolutely love to boast about how I eloquently set the entire post-it note scavenge from the bathroom to here AND cooked dinner all in the time you were having a shower..." she paused looking Quinn up and down, "God baby you look..."

Quinn shrugged, "You said to look nice... now what about cooking?" she asked pulling her back on track.

Rachel smirked, "But I ordered from the cute restaurant down the lane..."

"Rachel Berry, please stop talking," Quinn insisted, stepping towards her and pulling on her shirt, "You are amazing..."

"Who says romance is dead?" Rachel smiled kissing her nose.

"I think maybe you should strip for me..." Quinn grinned, placing the half empty wine glass on the table and unbuttoning Rachel's shirt.

"You want me to throw in some dance moves?" she replied smirking.

Quinn nodded, "and some singing,"

"We'll rename ourselves _strip __directions_" Rachel muttered between Quinn's lips.

Before Quinn could unbutton Rachel's jeans, the doorbell rang.

"Don't answer it, it's probably trick-or-treaters..." Rachel replied.

Quinn huffed, "Halloween was in October..."

Rachel sighed, "Damn you're not drunk yet..."

Quinn shook her head, untangling herself from Rachel before making her way to the front door, "Who ever you are, I have a giant baseball bat if you try to rob me..." she called.

Quinn opened the door and immediately felt her jaw drop.

"What in gods name..." she spluttered, "Santana?"

Santana stepped out of the dim light from porch and into the light of the house, "Quinn," she said and then before anything else was said, she burst into tears.

"Santana?" Rachel asked bewildered.

"San," Quinn repeated reaching for her, "Santana what the hell has happened?"

Santana was trying to speak through these great big sobs, and it was all Quinn could do to just hold Santana against her.

"San," she said softly, rubbing circles across her back, "You're scaring us..."

"Brittany," Santana sobbed into Quinn's shoulder, "I think it's over between us..."

* * *

><p>Can you imagine life like a computer, a robot, set amongst a system of same routines and same rules, until one day someone hacks into your system, changes the routines and makes you crash. Sometimes in life computers <em>do<em> crash, things fall apart, people fall out of step with each other, a virus corrupts all those inundated files on your system.

The best we can do, is take a single step backwards, breathe and reboot.

"Santana," Quinn said softly eying her nervously, "You gonna say something?"

Santana looked up from where she was sitting on the steps of the blue domed church.

"Santorini is really beautiful Q, you described it well in your emails,"

Quinn sighed sharply, sitting down next to her, "I don't mean that, you've barely said a word since you arrived,"

"What do you want me to say," Santana quivered, "Every time I try to speak I die a little inside..."

"Santana," Quinn interrupted a little more aggressively than what she had intended, "You are going to explain in detail what the hell is going on, you think you can just literally show up in Greece crying about Brittany and then silence?"

Santana inhaled deeply, "Qu..."

"Greece Santana," Quinn said, "I have five million questions and I want you to answer them right now or so help me..."

"Okay!" Santana replied, "Gosh, we're sitting on a church!"

Quinn nervously glanced at the beautifully constructed building behind them, before turning back to Santana, "How did you get here?"

Santana shrugged, "Dad's credit card..."

Quinn pursed her lips, "Of course..."

"Oh don't judge me Quinn, I needed you," she shot back.

"Please just tell me what happened, what made you run all the way here..."

Santana's eyes glazed over, "About a week after you left, Brittany came to my house crying, she said that her parents were thinking of moving out of state because of a better job opportunity for her Dad, and then all of a sudden we were arguing. Like really arguing Q, I've never had an argument like this before..."

"And you guys didn't talk about it?"

Santana sighed, "You know what I was like in the beginning with feelings, I never ever shared them, and I don't know, a day went without speaking, another day, and then it turned into two weeks, before I called her and we just had this really big fight and she said she didn't like the person I was being and..."

Quinn watched Santana break down again, "Enough..." she soothed, "Enough crying, we need to fix this, you two are not breaking up, I'm damn sure Britts is probably just as destroyed... and confused," she added.

There is a lot to be said about the possibility of always wanting more. Picture yourself at your kitchen table right now, you have a glass in front of you, and someone's pouring you a drink. They tell you to "say when", and naturally, you'll sit there and you'll watch them pour, but of course, like most people, you'll never actually say it. It's because people never know _when_ is actually enough. People don't say when, because the possibility of something more always outweighs the ability to "say when". More vodka, more pizza, more love, more of just anything in general.

But ask yourself, do you really want more heartache?

"I don't know what to do," Santana whispered, "I can't believe I just got on a plane to Greece. I just... I love her so much Quinn..."

Quinn rubbed Santana's back gently, "Have you ever heard of John Donne?"

Santana wiped her eyes softly, "No, your ex boyfriend?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "He was this well known sociologist who gave a very big theory on being alone. He believed that we were never alone, he said that 'no man is an island entire unto himself...'

Santana smiled, "Q, I love you and your philosophical stuff but I have no idea..."

"What he meant San, was that all anyone will ever need is just someone to step onto our island and let us know that we're never alone. It can be anyone, just someone to tell us that we're not by ourselves..." she paused a moment, "You're not alone Santana,"

"Where do I go from here Quinn?" Santana whispered.

Quinn couldn't answer her, how could she? She knew that this needed to be fixed, she just didn't know how to right now.

"Don't be angry with me,"

Quinn looked up suddenly to find Rachel standing in front of them, "Baby?"

"No really, Santana, you can't be angry with me, I just had your best interests at heart okay,"

Santana frowned, "Berrybox you're doing that thing where I have absolutely no clue what you're talking about,"

Rachel looked at Quinn briefly, before disappearing behind the thin white wall for a moment, when she returned, Quinn felt her own jaw drop let alone Santana's.

"Brittany..." Quinn murmured.

"Hi," she said softly.

Rachel took a deep breath, "Santana you were crying yourself to sleep and I just, I don't know, I called Brittany and then my Dads and her Mum had some frequent flyer points left, and one thing led to another and Adrien helped to come to the airport and..."

Santana held up her hand, "You're going a million miles an hour..."

Quinn cleared her throat, "Rachel and I are just going to go for a walk..."

"Q," Santana hissed, "That was the most unsubtle way..."

"Smalls you want ice cream?" Quinn said ignoring Santana and brushing Brittany's cheek gently as she passed her. Quinn moved to Rachel's side, watching as Brittany tentatively moved around her, and stepped towards Santana.

"I cant breathe," Rachel whispered.

Quinn could feel the hairs on her own arms rise as she watched her best friends trying to find each other.

"For gods sake," she whispered, "Fix yourselves, just fix this,"

This is it; isn't it.

Pull your self away from whatever thoughts you're currently thinking and focus on the one thing that can save the world. If you have a minute, why don't you think about what love actually is. When you fall in love, you fall into a subconscious and temporary madness. The best way Quinn could describe love is by thinking about the novel _Captain __Corelli's__ Mandolin._

Being in love are the moments beyond the madness. When the excitement partially subsides and you're left with a decision. You're left with trying to understand if you have become so intertwined to the very core of your existence, that it would be impossible to part.

Love is breathlessness, it's intoxication and it's blinding. It's lying awake each night wishing to be wrapped up in them. You can convince yourself you're in love with someone. But real love, true love itself, is what is left over when the lights go dark.

Love in its absolute purest, is what remains, after everything else has burned away.

Brittany stepped closer to Santana again, "Greece San?" she whispered, "You ran all the way to Greece?"

Santana looked at her, "I needed Q to fix me," she replied.

"And why wouldn't you let me do that?" Brittany murmured.

Santana glared at her, "Because you're leaving me!"

Brittany bit her lip, "You never answered my calls to let me explain Santana, we were so mad at each other, it was stupid not to just talk,"

It's funny isn't it, that when you fold a heart in half, and turn it upside down, it makes a tear drop. That's what love sometimes does, gives us tears, but we need to smooth our hearts out again, spread back the tears and reach the whole heart again.

"Can I tell you something?" Brittany asked softly, "Something I've never told you before?"

"Can my heart take it?" Santana responded weakly.

Brittany closed the space between them, taking Santana's hand and sitting beside her. It was so instantaneous at how much just the warmth of Brittany made Santana's heart skip a million beats.

Brittany looked at her, "You look so pretty San, in this light, with your hair like that..."

"Don't," Santana whispered, "Just say what you need to, because just touching you right now, is killing me..."

Santana watched as she inhaled softly before Brittany began.

"When I was younger, I use to play with the boy next door called Jaime Finch. Whenever I wasn't with you or with Quinn, I was with Jaime; we use to make mud pies after school. For a long time I thought that maybe he wasn't real. Until one summer Mr and Mrs Finch put a moving sign in front of their house. Mum sat me down and told me that Jaime wouldn't be coming to play anymore, and that I needed to learn to live without him..."

Brittany paused, fighting the emotion that was creeping its way into her eyes. They were reflecting the sun, so much so that they reminded Santana of diamonds.

"He died, didn't he," she whispered.

Brittany nodded before continuing, "I'll always remember the afternoon Mr and Mrs Finch cleared out. A long white moving van pulled out from the driveway, and I could hear it groaning as it made its way down the road with those trees that line the gravel strip. Mr and Mrs Finch followed in their blue sedan, and it creaked, just like it was saying goodbye. I watched them follow the moving truck, kind of like gypsies moving to a place more magical and easier to be..."

Santana's heart had nearly stopped, she had never heard Brittany use such words before. God if her face moved even but an inch, she would take over her lips before the story was even half way done.

"Then just like that the house was empty. It was this great big brick rendered construction left abandoned on the side of the road, with no one to live in it and keep it company. It's windows were all bare, stripped of their curtains and I remember staring at them, like I was staring at these great big eyes; distant, confused, not knowing why it had been left alone..."

Santana was more in love than ever right about now.

"I had leant from my window, to only see this small glint sitting just on top of the gutter railing, and I was curious, so I reached for it, and then realised that I'd found the pulley system, Jaime and I had used when we had been really little. It had become caught ages ago, caught in the branches of my oak tree and we hadn't been able to untangle it. I tried to snag the line with my fingers, but the rotted string gave out and the rusted tin can tumbled from the threaded perch between our two houses..."

Santana shifted, so her thigh gently grazed Brittany's. She immediately trembled as both their legs broke into goosebumps.

"Anyway I took off downstairs, made my way between our two houses and saw that the can had fallen between two garbage bins. I jabbed my finger into the can and fumbled with the piece of paper for ages. This was the last message sent between us, because different schools got in the way, and I had cheerio's. When I opened the piece of paper, I realised my handwriting had been the one asking the question; a question I had never received the answer to. _If__ you__ could __pick__ anyone __in __this __whole__ world__ that__ you __thought __was __my __soul__mate, __who __would __you __pick_? I read the answer that Jaime had given me, an answer that back then, I thought he would have just nominated himself. But he hadn't. He'd written one word..."

Brittany looked directly at Santana, squeezing her hand, "He'd written your name Santana..."

That's all it took. It had all been too much anyway. Santana immediately kissed her.

"I will always find a way to be with you Santana," Brittany whispered trailing her thumb down her cheek, "Don't ever forget that, you're the one I want..."

Santana smiled softly pulling at Brittany's lips again, "When did you get so smart?"

"They're kissing!" Rachel whispered excitedly.

Quinn smirked, "Baby, I'm not blind!"

Rachel bit her lip, "Fives, Santana and Brittany are in Greece right now, with us, in time for Frannie's wedding,"

Quinn raised her eyebrows, "Rachel Berry don't you dare go thinking up crazy ideas!"

"But did Frannie not say she needed more bridesmaids? Ones that actually speak English?"

Quinn's eyes slightly glistened, "I may actually agree with you on this one..."

**. . .**

You've heard of that old saying _'everything happens for a reason'_. Well what if life was more calculated than that. What if everything that happens in your life, is a carefully pre-designed step that was always meant to happen. The process leading up to an event, the moments leading up to a situation, are all meant to happen in that sequence because that's just the way they were already planned.

"The wedding is tomorrow!" Judy said flabbergasted, "We've already had the dress rehearsal!"

"But Mum, this idea is brilliant," Quinn protested.

"Quinnie," Judy reasoned, "Your sister is perfectly happy with the bridesmaids that Christiana and I..."

"Actually Mum, I can't remember their names," Frannie said as she wiped down the last of the dishes.

"Mrs F, I'm really sorry to have just shown up like this, it was just, we needed Quinn and Rachel and we didn't even really know when the wedding was..." Santana started.

Judy held up her hands, "Santana honestly this house is big enough to fit the entire Mckinley High,"

Frannie raised her eyebrows, "Do not get any ideas, its not a beach house..."

Quinn smirked at her sister, she had always hated that school.

"Well I thinks it is a wonderful idea," Adrien said clapping his hands, "My brother will be overjoyed,"

Santana raised an eyebrow at Quinn.

"Speaks little English..." she whispered, and then grinned at Brittany's confused faced.

"I'll be overjoyed about what?"

They turned lightly to see Spyros walk into the kitchen carrying another one of those over sized fish.

Santana gagged.

"We found Frannie some English speaking bridesmaids..." Rachel responded.

Spyros looked from Frannie to Judy, then to Adrien and finally to the girls, "What was wrong with my uncles friends cousins?"

"Honey," Frannie sighed, "I practically raised these girls, it seems fitting..."

Spyros grinned looking at them, "Well," he shrugged, "I agree they look much better in the dresses..."

"Question..." Adrien asked, glancing from Brittany to Santana, "Are you two also...?"

"Yes," Frannie said automatically.

Judy frowned, "How do you..."

Frannie glared at Quinn and to Rachel before back again, "Let's just say those two's singing voices aren't the only thing that's loud,"

Quinn flushed bright red at exactly the same time as Rachel.

"And Santana and Britts are the backup singers..." she added with a slight grin.

"Stop!" Quinn wailed.

"I'm pregnant, I can say what I wish..."

Judy crossed her arms, "Well you girls are just damn fortunate that Greece is so liberated, I swear we're going to be having the feminist movement in the centre of Santorini..."

Frannie cleared her throat, "Does anyone realise that the straight girl getting married, literally has a bridal party of lesbians?"

Spyros cleared his throat, "σταματήσει με τις ετικέτες! Aphrodite does not proclaim labels on love..."

"And that," Quinn grinned, "Is why he's the perfect brother in law,"

* * *

><p>This is the one day little girls dream of. They dream of their fairytale wedding, with a huge white cake, a long beautifully designed dress, sweet tasting champagne, the man of their absolute dreams, and a day so perfectly wrapped in sunlight, you can almost see diamonds glistening on your skin. Maybe it's not about a fairytale wedding though. Maybe it's about being <em>whole<em> on that day. Whole with your family, whole with your loved ones, whole within yourself.

"I'm really happy you're here Quinn," Frannie whispered as they stood just behind the doors.

Quinn placed the veil over her sister's face, "Somehow I don't think I was suppose to be anywhere else. Now, let's get you married,"

_It's a beautiful night,_

_We're looking for something dumb to do_

_hey baby I think I wanna marry you_

_Is it that look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice_

_Who cares baby I think I wanna marry you_

_Well I know this little chapel on the boulevard _

_We can go,_

_No one will know_

_Oh come on girl_

_Who cares if we're trashed, got a pocket full of cash we can blow_

_Shots of proton and it's on girl_

_Don't say no no no just say yeah yeah yeah_

_and we'll go go go go if you're ready like I'm ready_

_Just say I do_

_Tell me right now baby_

_Tell me right now_

_Just say I do_

_Tell me right now baby_

_Tell me right now baby_

_Hey baby I think I wanna marry you_

**. . .**

Perhaps when _Benjamin Franklin_ first discovered electricity, he would never realise just how much light would make the world brighter. When Quinn and Frannie had been younger, their mother and father had driven them to Detroit, for a distant relatives wedding. The only thing Quinn could remember about that entire trip, was the moment she stirred from the backseat and looked at the approaching city.

The lights lit up the sky.

You know when you can see the colours of a city play across an open night city. You think to yourself, is anyone outside this earth looking down on us. You think about astronauts, you think about if there's anyone looking down from stars, what would the earth look like? This great big planet, with lights dancing around like fireflies, at least that's what Quinn thought.

Now as she sat with Santana in the white Gazebo, amoungst the mountains, beside the church that Spyros and Frannie were married in, she watched as the entire courtyard had been filled and laced with white lights. The wedding service had been everything you would expect something held in Santorini to be, completely and utterly beautiful.

But it had been more than that.

It had been more, because love had finally been found. Love between friends, love between soulmates, love between your family. In Quinn's reception speech not even an hour prior to this moment, she had ended with one of her favourite Shakespearean quotes, _'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken. Love alters not with time's brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom.'_ Perhaps that is exactly what Shakespeare was trying to convey; that love does not alter, even over time, even through darkness.

Now, they were watching as Brittany and Rachel danced with the small page boys in the centre of the dance floor.

"The way you look at her Santana" Quinn whispered.

Santana turned slightly, as the lanterns above them fell over her face.

"Like there's no one else the world?" she whispered and Quinn nodded.

"You do the same" she shrugged.

"I don't want anyone else to ever have her,"

Santana smirked slightly, "God you sound like me every time a guy looks at Brittany"

Quinn shrugged, "Yours chased you to Greece,"

Santana playfully kicked her under the table, "Tonight was perfect Quinn, I'm glad I was chased here..."

Quinn turned to her softly, "Everyone at home is okay? Kurt and Cedes? Have you seen them?"

"Everyone's fine Q," she replied, not taking her eyes off Brittany.

"And Pop? How is he? Speaking to him on the phone isn't enough..." Quinn asked.

Santana smiled lightly, "He's scared of Skype... thinks somehow Aliens can tap into it and record our street addresses..."

"But," she shrugged, "Kurt stays with him nearly every single night, they spend all day together as well..."

Quinn grinned, that was so like Kurt, to keep her grandfather company like that.

"At one stage I think Snips had Kurt filling out a form for a dating website but I'm not sure how that went..." Santana smirked.

Quinn laughed, christ she missed them so much.

"They're fine Q," Santana added, "They just miss you both,"

Brittany suddenly came bounding onto the Gazebo, "Can you two start dancing already?"

Santana looked at Quinn, "Should we show them how the New Directions play?"

Quinn laughed, "I don't think they can handle it,"

She ran after Santana and Brittany to the dance floor, where her parents were still dancing with half of Spyros' relatives and the village.

"You having fun no?" Adrian yelled over the music.

Quinn winked at him in response; and then she felt those familiar hands slide around her waist as a slower song filtered into the speakers.

"Dance with me fives," Rachel whispered and immediately Quinn tightened her grip around her girlfriend.

It can be said that happiness comes in many forms. The moment you land your dream job, in the company of friends or family, when you see the film you've been waiting years to come to the cinema. Many people don't really realise that's its perfectly okay to just let yourself be happy. Sometimes happiness comes in great things, sometimes happiness comes in smaller things; like when the daises in your front garden finally decide to grow again.

Humans often tend to declare war on their own emotions. They run through their days with stress, with anxiety, with anger and sometimes pain, so much so that these worrying feelings become a part of our daily routines. They become so apart of our lives, so much so, that we just can't seem to remember those times when these feelings weren't there. Then in one moment, you feel something, you feel something that you're not use to, not familiar with, because it hasn't been a character of your routine for so long. It might take you a while, maybe even a few extra moments to realise what it is.

But you will eventually.

You'll realise that this strange feeling sprouting from the very tips of your fingers and your toes, and flowing through your veins, is in actual fact, happiness.

"I love you," Quinn whispered into Rachel's ear and she felt Rachel smile into her neck.

"You two look beautiful,"

Quinn glanced to see Frannie beside them, holding a tray of Greek tapas.

"Frannie," Rachel asked, "You are not meant to be carrying around trays, it's your wedding reception,"

Frannie eyed her, "Honey I am not offering these to anyone, this is just for me and this kid,"

Quinn watched her stroke her belly gently, before reaching out and touching the bump as well.

"The dress fits so well, everything was perfect today," she smiled lightly.

Frannie pursed her lips a little.

"What?" Quinn smirked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Frannie shrugged softly, "Because you've grown into this amazing person... and" she said wrinkling her nose, "I think my water just broke,"

And suddenly the Tapas weren't on the tray anymore.

* * *

><p>You can ask me anything always Little Readers, I know I'm travelling and I thank you for continuing to stick with this story, but just know I always check up on all your questions :)<p>

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	32. Chapter 31

Hey my little readers! What's the go? Why so quiet for? I see you saving my 'story alerts' (all 698 of you!) in my email notifications...but you don't wanna say hi? :P I'm kidding! Hope your well! Thank you for those who drop by tumblr or twitter with ideas (louisechaa- thanks for the 'bath of Aphrodite' idea… so cool!) you guys keep my mind going!

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 31<strong>

_The Summer in Greece_

_There's something about the way new life renews you_

* * *

><p>What if one day someone asked you to document exactly what you wanted from life? They handed you a pencil and a note book, and told you to write down all the things you wanted from the world. Could you name them all?<p>

Could you name but a few?

Let's just say the world was to pick someone at random. It could be anyone, anyone with a heart that beats and blood that runs through their veins. What types of things do you think they'd write down? Would it be the things you would pick too?

Or completely opposite?

Truth be told, there is no one in this world who would be able to sit and list all the things another person would, quite simply because if we were to take this written list and observe it, we'd probably find a whole lot of scribbled words, followed by words crossed out and question marks placed on the pages.

People's wants tend to change.

They change because people grow and transform not only physically but also in the way they think. Don't be afraid to cross things out. There might come a time in your life where you cross one thing out and then rewrite it five times simply because you're not sure.

That's okay.

No one is 100% sure of themselves all the time.

It's not the way the human condition was designed. You're meant to worry, you're meant to stress and to feel as though things just aren't working; because then, when they are, you might just learn to appreciate them more.

In moments of chaos, there are only three ways you can react. The first being you join in with the chaos, you remain panicked, frozen, and unable to communicate a single word. The second is shock, in which you delve into a state of being unreachable. The third, surprisingly, is a calm sense of serenity, where by you move in motions that you may later forget but none the less you take charge of the situation.

"Christ!" Adrien yelled from Quinn's left, "_Χρειαζόμαστε __μια __ασθενοφόρων_! We need the ambulance!"

"Are you kidding!" Spyros cried skidding to a halt and wrapping his arm around Frannie, "That thing won't come for hours, the plans were to have Frannie at the hospital,"

"Well plans go out the window when a baby decides to come early," Rachel said whipping the cloth from under the presents, and then spreading it across the dance floor.

"Water," Quinn said immediately, "Get me a hot tub of water,"

"Quinn," Frannie said reaching for her hand.

"It's okay," Quinn said calmly, "This is fine,"

Actually it was not fine, this was far from fine, this baby wasn't due for another couple of weeks, this was the middle of the reception, up in the mountains, where it would take at least two hours to get back down to the main village. The roads were narrow, messily unpaved and there was no way an ambulance could just zoom up here.

"Health education," Quinn heard Brittany's voice suddenly beside her.

"Britts, that was a manikin that popped out a plastic kid, this is real life," Santana responded, before snaking a shawl from a Greek woman beside her and scrunching it into a ball.

Quinn watched as she handed it to Spyros, "Dab her forehead,"

He nodded and proceeded to carefully wipe the sweat beads forming along Frannie's brow.

"No Britt's right," Rachel said, "We all got A's in that class," she looked at Quinn, trying not to seem surprised that Brittany did as well, "This baby won't wait..."

"There aren't any doctors?" Judy screeched looking around at the crowd of wedding guests, "Oh sweetheart..." she said as Frannie was lowered onto the cloth.

"Judy," Rachel said pulling her backwards, "How about we stand here,"

"We need doctors, and a hospital, oh Russ... why isn't this child being born in America?"

Russell had already helped Rachel take a hold of Judy, "Honey, this child is perfectly okay to be born here..."

"On a cloth in the middle of a reception dance floor?"

"Mum! Dad!" Frannie screamed, "SHUTUP!"

Quinn bit her lip as the colour rose in her sisters cheeks, and an agonising scream wailed from her lips, this was definitely the beginning of the contraction stages.

"Water!" Adrien said, and he placed the tub next to Frannie.

Spyros glared at it as though it was magically going to transport the baby.

Quinn knelt down in front of her sister, she took the towels Adrien had also brought and spread them in between her legs. She then reached for the bottle of alcohol on the table, opened it, and washed her hands in alcohol and water.

"Sterilization," she muttered, more so to herself. This would be fine, it's just the 'check list' from _health __ed_; she could absolutely do this.

Frannie howled again.

Gently, Quinn pushed her sister's legs open, smirking as half the men and boys gagged and moved clear away.

"Fuck," she heard someone say.

"The woman's vaginal anatomy is actually rather interesting," Rachel replied and Quinn snorted at her girlfriend.

"You would know," Santana answered.

Judy snapped at her, "This is no time to be talking about..."

"Yes but they're very familiar..." Adrien protested.

"ENOUGH!" Frannie screamed.

Quinn winced as another contraction swept through her sisters body, causing Frannie to howl in pain again.

"Who's the midwife?" Santana shouted, and Frannie grimaced, glaring at Spyros.

He seemed a little sheepish, "Well, we didn't really think of that..."

Santana raised her eyebrows, "Did you at least attend breathing classes?"

"Some," he shrugged, "We were so busy with the wedding..."

Frannie screamed again, causing even more of the wedding guests to back away.

"Circle," Brittany suddenly said, "Create a circle,"

Quinn half grinned, as the closest members of the family, linked slightly and circled around Frannie, making their very own private birthing centre, well, figuratively speaking.

"GET IT OUT!" Frannie screamed again.

"Three stages!" Rachel said pulling Quinn closer to Frannie, "The shortening and dilation of the cervix, descent and birth of the infant and then the birth of the placenta,"

Santana gagged, "Jesus Berrybox how do you remember that?"

Quinn kissed her cheek, "Because she's an A grade student,"

Rachel beamed.

"QUINN PULL THE THING OUT NOW!"

Quinn turned back to her sister, "Stop screaming!"

"DRUGS!"

A cigarette was handed in through the circle.

"OUT!" Judy yelled, "Get that away from here!"

The little old Greek man slunk in the opposite direction, realising that he really wasn't much help.

Quinn took a deep breath and pushed Frannie's legs further apart; slowly and gently, trying not to cause any more discomfort than necessary.

"Fuck," Santana muttered.

"Santana you're very close to these all the time," Quinn smirked.

"Not when there's a baby about to pop out!"

"One day," Brittany grinned, and Santana slipped her arm around her waist, "With your blue eyes?"

"STOP TALKING!" Frannie screamed again, "I'M DYING!"

"Sweetheart, let's breathe..." Judy said and she began to exercise the breathing necessary, meanwhile Quinn noticed that the men in the circle all had their eyes closed, and her father seemed to be humming the American national anthem.

"Spyros!" Rachel demanded, "Open your damn eyes and watch your child being born,"

Spyros shook his head.

"SPY OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!" Frannie yelled, reaching and grabbing a fist of his shirt, pulling him forward.

"Thank god you took the dress off," Brittany quipped, glancing at the cocktail dress Frannie had changed into for the reception, which was now hiked over her legs.

Frannie screamed again, and Quinn knew this baby was definitely coming.

She was desperately trying to sort through her own frantic thoughts to find the part of her brain that had retained all the knowledge those courses through _health__ed_ had taught her. She would find a certain serenity, convince herself that this would be okay, and then Frannie would hit another contraction and Quinn's mind would plummet into all the things that could go wrong.

Like what if the baby wasn't turned in the cervix properly? What if she started to haemorrhage? What about infection? The baby is so clean, Quinn could sterilize herself with all the alcohol possible, but what if it wasn't enough? What about the damn placenta, god was she really in control of tying the umbilical cord, what if she ruined the kid's belly button?

Frannie was actually giving birth surrounded by her family, Quinn couldn't stuff this up; this was her niece or nephew coming into the world right now.

"The cervix is most likely fully dilated," Rachel said matter-o-factly.

Quinn looked directly between her sister's legs and felt her stomach roll over; she could see a head, this mop of dark hair, completely engaged in Frannie's pelvis.

"Push," Quinn said, "Frannie PUSH!"

Quinn wished that there was a recorder taping her thoughts and feelings right now, so that later on in her life, she would be able to look back and remember exactly how she felt in these particular moments. That's supposed to be what memory is, but sometimes it doesn't do as much justice as it should.

_"ρήμ. __σπρώχνω_" Spyros was saying, "Push and push and push..."

"WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M DOING!" Frannie screamed and he winced as she dug her nails into his arm, "OH GOD!"

And then suddenly it was like one swift motion, the head slid through, as did the rest of its tiny body, and then Quinn had the smallest piece of life in her hands. Her heart was racing; racing in every possible way because this small life wasn't crying, it wasn't moving, it was still.

"Please," Quinn whispered.

It was almost as if invisible walls suddenly grew around her, it blocked out everyone's yelling, it blocked out the words of worry, and all Quinn could see were her hands holding this tiny little baby, begging for it to finish its journey into the world.

One thing broke the silence of her walls, and that was when the child opened its eyes and just wailed.

Quinn felt the relief flow through her veins in ways she had never even imagined. The walls snapped open again and Quinn felt herself placing the baby into her sister's arms.

"It's a boy," she whispered.

Frannie and Spryos, like any new parents really, just cried.

Perhaps in this world we stumble across very rare chances to witness the art of life itself. One of the greatest mysteries in this world, is which one of us, if any of us at all, get to determine when the old ends, and the new begins. The mystery is so great, because there isn't a calendar to determine fate, or chance or human stages.

It just happens.

It might be big or small; something that changes is in some way. It brings us hope, it gives us another way of living and a different outlook on the world. Perhaps this allows us to let go of old habits and old fears, that knot of anxiety inside us can be untied, and we finally remember, that amid the chaos of our lives there is something worth holding onto. When you're holding life in your hands, you understand how important it is; you understand that above everything, life is just worth keeping, it's worth surviving to be alive.

Quinn leant back slightly; she was so caught up in watching Frannie and Spyros she hadn't had the chance to take in everyone else's reactions. There was Greek singing in the background somewhere, her mother and Christiana were crying, her father and Spyros' father were grinning. Santana's arms were around Brittany, as they both stared at the tiny baby in front of them. Then she saw Rachel, and Rachel throughout the entire ordeal, had not taken her eyes away from Quinn.

"I love you," she whispered, and she held back her tears as to not become overwhelmed.

"What's his name?" Brittany asked suddenly.

Quinn turned to her sister, as she cradled her son.

Frannie looked at Spyros and then back to Quinn smiling.

"We want to call him Hugh," she said, "Because Hugh has the same meaning as Quinn,"

"Fives?" Rachel asked puzzled, and Quinn laughed.

Frannie smirked, "No; those names mean intelligence and bravery," she took a breath, "The strongest qualities my sister has, that we want for our baby,"

Quinn had done so well, but that topped off one of the most intense moments in her entire life, she couldn't hold back.

She cried.

**. . .**

All our young lives, we search and we search for someone that we can love. Someone that we can be in love with, make us laugh, keep us safe, make us complete. Some of us choose partners, and then change a few times, others find theirs early, and some find theirs later in life. Regardless, the human condition emphasises how much we all dance to a song of heartbreak and of hope, all at the same time, and all the while wondering if somewhere, somehow, someone perfect is out there searching for us. When do you know if the search is over? When do you know that you've found the person you want to spend the rest of eternity with?

You don't, you _feel_ it.

The chaos had subsided gradually, an ambulance had finally made it, trained paramedics had attended to Hugh and to Frannie, and the family had followed to the hospital. Quinn was so relived to find that the doctors spoke better English than they did Greek. After spending nearly thirty minutes convincing her father that the injections the nurses were giving Hugh, was just a standard procedure, she had found Rachel outside the waiting room.

"Where's San and Britts?" she asked, sliding down the wall to sit beside her.

"Finding coffee," Rachel replied smiling, and she turned to Quinn slightly, "You were really amazing today," she whispered.

"You know me, love the drama," she responded, rubbing her hands down her dress.

Rachel took Quinn's hands into her own, "But that's the thing Fives; you don't like drama, you like calmness, serenity, and yet in all these dramatic situations, you always know what to do,"

Quinn laughed, "You have no idea how much I just wing my way through it,"

Rachel shrugged, "You're going to be an amazing Mum to our kids,"

Quinn felt the breath leave her lungs, "Our?" she repeated.

Rachel gasped softly, "God I said that out loud didn't I..."

Quinn watched her squirm and try to think of all different excuses at once.

"Rachel," she laughed, kissing her, "_Our_ children will be perfect,"

Rachel relaxed almost instantly, "Can they have your eyes?"

"If they have your smile..." she whispered, kissing her again.

"Can they have your intelligence and your kindness?"

"If they have your voice," Quinn whispered.

"Of course my voice," Rachel said smirking and Quinn grabbed her cheeks.

"God I can't wait to marry you," she grinned.

Perhaps not everyone will get the romance of golden gates and shooting stars. They won't have the gemstones or the gold, they won't have the diamonds or the bouquets of flowers delivered to their door steps. But maybe you don't need that you know. Maybe all anyone ever needs is just a steady hand. A kind soul, someone to fall asleep next to, knowing that your heart is safe, knowing that you love, and you are also loved in return.

* * *

><p>The sunlight was hot on Quinn's face as she wound her way through the now familiar cobbled alleyways. Smiling slightly as a handful of small local Greek children ran passed her, laughing and screaming after a soccer ball. She toyed with a bunch of roses extending from someone's window sill before she felt her phone vibrate in the beach bag handing from her shoulder.<p>

_'Baby, San and Britt are going swimming in the lagoon, where can I meet you?'_

Quinn grinned.

**'Can't spend a day without me?'**

_'I just want in your pants really...'_

Quinn rolled her eyes, before her phone immediately vibrated again.

_'I'm kidding, please… I miss you :) '_

Perhaps people over analyse the words _I __miss __you_. Perhaps it's never about how long you go without seeing someone, whether a whole year, a month, a day, even ten minutes, missing them is just about just wanting them near you. Missing them is knowing that even for a second, that they aren't in reach, something inside you just doesn't feel right.

Quinn typed her response, glancing at their wharf and smiling slightly,

**'Come find me smalls, I'm just left of the South Side of Anywhere'**

With that she shut her phone, and became distracted with a row of paintings lining the pavement. Quinn knelt down in front of the canvases, becoming lost in the raw emotion of the artist who had painted these.

What if we could measure our life with memory? That our lives were merely just calculated equations based on the steps we'd already taken. Imagine yourself in every possible situation; you're a fire fighter in downtown Brooklyn, you're a storyteller in East London, you're a painter on the French Rivera- are your moments the same no matter what mask settles itself over your eyes?

More or less, are the people in your life the same in any given circumstance?

People have a lot of moments that just don't last forever. But sometimes, you might just find the select few; have more moments that mean everything. Moments come in handfuls, they flow with the seasons, and they give you all the reasons to live and to be loved. Sometimes moments aren't always easy, sometimes they take courage and careful consideration. Sometimes their fleeting, other times they leave marks, and more often or not they're shared with the people we love.

Quinn thought about all of her and Rachel's moments, she thought about how some have been easy, some not so much, and others have crept up on them. You know, maybe sometimes humans waste their words and their moments, and don't take the time to say the things in their hearts because they forget how limited all our chances are. Your life leads itself in stages, full of routines and motions that become all too familiar, until all those chances you're meant to be taking, are just left on the shelves, unwanted and untaken.

It's important that _we_ choose not to waste _our_ moments.

Every single one of this artist' paintings evoked something in her, they meant something, it was like Quinn was writing her own story in her mind to fit the stories the artist had created with paint, with charcoal, and with pencil. It was astounding; it was like nothing she had seen before. Sitting fifth from the right was a smaller canvas, painted in silver paint, with a teardrop depiction. You know, you can suddenly start to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh.

You like them because maybe their smile makes something inside you tick, you'll like them because their laughter might be infectious, something that will wake you up in the morning. But let me assure you that you'll never truly fall in love with a person, until you've seen them cry. It has most likely absolutely nothing to do with the reason behind that persons tears, but rather everything to do with those actual tears.

A teardrop is typically associated with all kinds of sorrow. But if we look closer we might just see how much a tear drop relates to water, and all its droplet forms. If that is said, then early morning dew drops on the grass and the leaves, and thousands of droplets of rain left after the rain can also be associated with teardrops. These drops represent freshness and renewal. So even tear drops can relate to the dispersal of sorrow rather than the actual production of it.

Quinn moved cautiously to the next canvas, a blue backdrop, before the artist had pencilled a sea shell. This shell was something in itself as well; carefully constructed, each line drawn with skill and technique. Have you ever placed a sea shell to your ear? You know the old tale of how when you place a sea shell to your ear, you can hear the ocean and all its secrets? Maybe sometimes it's okay to forget the scientific reason behind it and understand what it really means.

The idea that the ocean is speaking to you and only you can hear it. Perhaps it's the same thing you do with your soul mate. You speak to each other in a language that only you both can understand. This language might not make sense to anyone else, but maybe that's the point, that this language is just spoken between the two of you, and it's the only language you'll ever really need.

Quinn felt like she had her own language with Rachel. Every time Rachel sung, and Quinn would slide in her harmonies, it was like they were creating a song that only they could understand.

"Quinn?"

Quinn turned slightly, smiling as Adrien moved towards her.

"Hey," she said, "Been to the beach?"

He seemed on edge, as though something was bothering him, and Quinn couldn't read his body language properly.

"What are you doing up here eh?" he asked, glancing around.

Quinn frowned, "Walking towards the wharf to meet Rachel, why are you so jumpy all of a sudden?"

"Jumpy?" he answered with a quizzical look, "I am not jumping?"

"Adrien," Quinn said rolling her eyes, "Unless you're selling drugs up here, tell me why you're being so scattered,"

Adrien exhaled a few breaths, "I am not, just a bad day for the surf,"

Quinn looked at him disbelievingly.

"_Συγχωρήστε με, θέλω να αγοράζουν δική σας βαφής…"_

A young woman had appeared from around the corner, holding a flyer and pointing at one of the paintings lined up against the wall.

"Ah…" Adrien stammered.

"Εσείς φτάσει ο καλλιτέχνης?"

Quinn was well beyond confused.

Adrien slumped his shoulders slightly, "επιφ," he replied, "Yes," and he brought the woman forward, before leaning through the canvases, picking the one that she clearly wanted and exchanging money.

It was after the woman left through the alleyway that Quinn rounded on him.

"YOU!" she said, "These are yours?"

Adrien folded his arms across his chest, "Quinn eh, you cannot say anything to Spyros, if my father found out that…"

"That what? You have the most amazing talent?"

Adrien brushed his hands through his hair, "Quinn it is not like that here eh, I cannot be an artist, I cannot show my art to anyone,"

"But you if love this, god Adrien these pieces are beautiful,"

He beamed slightly at her compliment before narrowing his eyes, "I cannot show anyone," he responded.

"These are too good not be shown,"

"I do not think my father would think the same no,"

"I think he would be proud," she answered flatly, "I mean these are brilliant,"

Adrien laughed slightly, "You are still yet to learn about the Greeks!"

"Well my nephew is Greek," she replied raising her eyebrows, "And I'm sorry but if he whipped out a talent like this I would place all of it in the centre of town,"

Adrien bit his lip, "What if I don't want to show it?" he shrugged, "What if it is not because I'm scared eh, what if it is more so that I just draw and paint because I love it so much,"

Quinn looked at him, trying to understand where he was coming from; she had been so use to Rachel and to Glee club, wanting to show off their talents, wanting to share it with not just each other, but the school and the rest of the world at some stage.

"But what if people were changed by this, what if you drew something so influential that people's lives changed?"

He seemed to think on this a moment, "What if I don't want to change the whole world eh? What if I just think my art should be kept away, just for me?"

"That's not what that woman thinks," Quinn argued, "Clearly she came all this way to find you,"

Adrien laughed, "Quinn she lives eh, two blocks from here,"

"You're missing my point" she huffed, placing her hands on her hips, "Most people live ordinary lives Adrien, but sometimes you meet people who are beyond average, people who dare to not just dream, but actually do,"

"Dreams Quinn, whatever they be, are hard to come true,"

"Only to people who cage themselves inside a box, only to people who let ordinary routine run their lives,"

"I don't want to be a famous painter Quinn,"

"I'm not saying you should," she said softly, "But at least let a handful of people come see your work, and not in a back alleyway, or in your room, or wherever else you hide these pieces,"

"Then if not here, then where?"

"It's your village Adrien, think of something," she answered and she smirked, watching him drift into thought.

"I'm not saying to try and have the biggest gallery display your work, at the very least, I'm saying to admit to yourself that above anything, these paintings prove that you're an artist Adrien, and you can't escape being an artist,"

Adrien grinned slightly, "And that is your girlfriend coming through right there,"

"Whose girlfriend? Baby what did I say about girls on the side?"

Quinn felt Rachel's hands slip around her waist and instantly she felt the Goosebumps crawl across her skin.

"God who painted these?" Rachel exclaimed, "They're amazing, Quinn, please let's buy one,"

This caused Adrien and Quinn to laugh.

"What?" Rachel demanded.

"Nothing," they said together.

But Quinn knew her girlfriend, and she knew that Rachel was far too intelligent to miss subtle hints.

"No," she gasped, "Adrien you painted these?"

"She guesses everything no?" he said shaking his head.

"Oh that's it; I am officially your number one fan," Rachel smiled.

"You can have anyone that you want," he said, spreading his arms out.

"I'm paying," Rachel said adamantly but Adrien shook his head.

"I insist," he protested.

"Adrien, when I have my Broadway debut, I expect you to pay for front row tickets, this is exactly the same thing," and she handed him euros.

He grinned at her.

You know _Henry __Rollins_ once said that being an artist is dragging your innermost feelings out, giving a piece of yourself, no matter in which art form, in which medium. So perhaps artists have certain things in common. Dreams, feelings, that longing to showcase a piece of yourself; hoping that somewhere, someone will understand what you're trying to convey. At some point though, those insecurities cling to you like spiders webs. It's important to remember that even if when you look at your art, you don't see anything that special, someone else might be looking at it, thinking the exact opposite.

Quinn's phone started ringing, and she reached to answer it, smirking as Santana's name appeared on the screen, "You get over frolicking did you?" she laughed into the receiver.

"Oh god Quinn," Santana cried into the phone.

Quinn's heart immediately dropped, "San? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Brittany," she cried, "Brittany,"

But Quinn could barely make out anything she was saying, and her face had caught the attention of Rachel and Adrien, who were glaring at her alarmed.

"Santana calm down," Quinn said, "Just calm down and tell me what's going on,"

"We were swimming off the rocks," she sobbed, "Quinn you need to come to the beach, there was a rip, and Britt…Britts not here.. Quinn…please…"

"Swimming where?" Rachel demanded, clearly she could hear Santana through the receiver.

"Where you left us," Santana replied, her voice was a mess, and Quinn knew she would also be physically a mess.

"Quickly, "Rachel responded and she took off running in the direction she had come from, Quinn and Adrien following in pursuit.

The scene that met Quinn's eyes barely even ten minutes later, was Santana standing by the lifeguard truck, wearing her small sun dress, crying and shaking and attempting to speak to the life guard.

"San," Rachel said grabbing her, "San, did you tell the lifeguard everything?"

Santana managed a nod, still glaring at the lifeguard as he yelled things into his radio.

Quinn's insides were a mess, she felt sick, Santana was never anywhere without Brittany, this didn't look right, this didn't _feel_right.

Before Quinn could gather any questions in her own mind, let alone fire them at Santana, the radio rang out with voices, speaking back to the lifeguard.

Santana looked directly at him, as he stood on the steps, replying to the radio, "What are you saying?" she demanded, "Repeat it in English!"

Quinn didn't even bother with the lifeguard; her eyes were firmly fixated on Adrien. His face was pale; his eyes hinting everything Quinn absolutely could not take.

Sometimes in life we face circumstances that remind us that _Mother__Nature_ is the ultimate ego; what she says, always goes. The sky out at sea looked like an invisible riot with the waves slapping the shore as though they were having a terrible argument; and all Quinn could think about is Brittany lost amongst it.

"Adrien," she said firmly but he didn't dare look at her, "Adrien," Quinn repeated, "Adrien look at me,"

Adrien turned his face to Quinn unwillingly, his bright eyes locking with hers, like a small puppy does when a master is scolding it.

"What is he saying?"

Quinn saw the lump literally growing in his throat, "A body has been found, just off the coast, washed up on some rocks,"

Quinn immediately felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. She didn't even know how to respond, because the life guard was already speaking into the radio again, and Santana had literally grabbed Adrien and was shaking him.

"Where? Where is she? God dammit Adrien translate faster,"

Adrien tried to settle her, running his hands over his face, "Santana please, they are doing the best they can do,"

"No," Santana whimpered, attempting to swipe the radio from the life guards hands.

"Santana," Rachel said softly, stepping forward and bundling Santana in her arms, "We're going to sit for a minute and let the man do his job,"

Quinn watched Rachel steady Santana on a nearby lounge bed, rubbing slow circles across her back in an effort to comfort her.

"Adrien," Quinn said trying to steady her own thoughts, despite being an absolute train wreck inside, "I need you right now okay, I need your help,"

Adrien held up his hands, as the radio sounded again, speaking back to the life guard, and as the language spilled into the air, Adrien turned to Quinn with his translation.

"Quinn, they say the body is female, Caucasian, light hair..."

"And...?" Quinn replied, feeling the panic crawl like spiders across her body, "Is she...?" Christ she could never ever say that word in relation to her friend, let alone be prepared to _hear_ it.

The lifeguard was still speaking into the radio, he sounded annoyed and confused at the same time, as though he was unsure of the processes.

Did Greece even have processes for these types of things, did they have authorities that came and spoke to you? God almighty she needed to ring her parents, she needed adults.

"Please God," Quinn whimpered raising her hand to her mouth to stop her crying, "Please don't do this to us,"

There was a moment of slight silence, as the lifeguard slumped his shoulders and placed the radio back on the receiver. He turned to Adrien; and even if he was speaking in a different dialect his body language said everything Quinn did not want to hear.

"Quinn," Adrien said steading his voice, "I am going to call Spyros and your parents okay,"

"What's happening?" she demanded.

"Quinn," he replied reaching for her, "The body, is... is gone, but they need friends or family to identify..."

Quinn shook her head, "It's not Brittany, don't you dare tell me it's Brittany, because... because... it..."

Words were lost; it was like an invisible hand had swept through her lips and stripped Quinn of all her ability to speak and to formulate words.

"It might not be..." Adrien grappled with words of his own, he was lost too, he was speaking to the lifeguard at the same time, and pulling out his phone and everything was just happening too fast for Quinn to even process what actually was going on.

She felt a hand grip her and immediately she realised that Santana was now standing behind her.

"I need to know what's going on, where is she Quinn? Where's Britt?"

"San," Quinn managed, "We need to do something that we're not going to like..."

"No we need to find Brittany," Santana replied, her voice had hit about one hundred times louder than what it should be, and Quinn could hear the panic spilling into the air between them.

"Quinn," Rachel murmured, "Adrien?"

And he helped Quinn; he helped her exactly the way she asked.

"There has been a body found, and we need to go to the rescue base, I just called Judy and Russell,"

"No," Santana replied, "We need to be out there looking for Brittany, we need boats… we need fucking helicopters,"

"_Είναι __ΕΠΙΓΡΑΦΗ_," the life guard said gravely, "They say that once you disappear into the sea, Poseidon takes you to keep,"

"As in the god Poseidon?" Rachel answered staring at him.

"Each year many souls are taken,"

"That's Greek mythology," Santana spat angrily, "We're fucking American, if someone doesn't find my girlfriend I'm taking your fucking boat and doing it myself,"

"San," Quinn said reaching for her.

"No this is my fault," she cried, "This is all my fault, if I hadn't of come here, if I hadn't suggested swimming,"

She was panicking, all her words weren't strung together properly, and they were broken, collected together between sobs and a shaking voice because she looked as though she was going to pass out of anxiety.

"Santana we need to be calm about this,"

"Calm!" she reared, "Calm Quinn? I can't fucking be calm when, I just..."

And that was it; she hit the ground on her knees.

"Santana," Rachel said immediately dropping down to her,

"I let go," she whispered, "I said I wouldn't and I did, because I couldn't hold on," tears swept down her cheeks as Santana crouched shaking, "I am so weak,"

"No San," Quinn replied crawling down next to her too, "No one can fight mother nature," and then she looked at the life guard, "Not even the gods,"

He shrugged slightly, fired up the radio again and spoke sentences of Greek the girls didn't understand.

"He's telling them that we're on our way," Adrien said softly, "Please girls, please we need to move now..."

It's not supposed to be like this. You feel so at home when you're so far away, like you're at peace not being near the routines that run your life. You run as far as you can to escape the things that will tear you down. You never think that something will go wrong; you never think that someone will need rescuing, or even worse, that someone can't be rescued.

"_Παρακαλώ__να__μας__βοηθήσει_!"

Quinn half tripped in the process of whipping around at the shouting.

"HELP!" came the voice again, "_ρήμ. __βοηθώ_! Lifeguard, help us!"

Struggling down the docking bay was a man carrying a limp body and a boy running ahead. The boy looked barely older than ten and he was shouting and screaming in Greek. Immediately Adrien and the lifeguard took off running towards them, and Quinn felt Santana slip from her arms to follow.

"_Διαπιστώσαμε __την __και __shes __δεν __αναπνευστική_," the man said as he staggered down onto the sand, "She not breathing!"

"Oh Christ," Rachel whimpered, and those were exactly Quinn's thoughts as the man laid Brittany on the sand.

"Baby," Santana cried dropping beside Brittany's limp body.

Adrien had already stripped his shirt from his torso and placed it over Brittany's half naked body.

"Get back," the lifeguard said and he knelt down beside her, beginning to perform CPR.

"He's doing it wrong," Rachel cried.

And sure enough Quinn watched as his rhythm was off, the counts were wrong, and it almost looked as though he was going to break Brittany's chest in half.

"Stop it," Santana screamed and she pushed him out of the way.

First aid, four years in a row, heath class, practicing the theory and the real thing, it was in their blood and Quinn had already begun the count as Santana began performing it.

"Brittany," Rachel cried, "Brittany just cough… anything,"

There are some things in this world, that words just simply can't efficiently describe, they can try, in fact more often than not, they can almost get half way there. But for all the things that words just seem to fail, it's a certain feeling that replaces them. You will never know this feeling unless it happens to you. This one in particular that Quinn felt right now, that she knew Santana was feeling, was one that you never want to feel.

It's chaos, its panic, it's you begging with chance and with fate and with whatever is controlling every move you make; not to give you the outcome that you won't be able to handle.

It's so hard to paint a picture, of moments that you never want to witness, a beach in Greece, watching your best friend trying to revive your other best friend, because a life guard isn't trained properly, does not speak your language fluently, and you almost see life and death fighting each other in front of you.

"Don't you do this to me," Santana cried pumping her hands up and down on Brittany chest and then pausing to exhale her own oxygen into Brittany's mouth.

"Brittany wake up," she sobbed, and she kept going, and Quinn didn't know what to do, because she needed Brittany to just come back right now, she needed mother nature to give her back.

And then it just happened.

Brittany's body jerked upwards, and her mouth vomited half the ocean and she was coughing and spluttering and reaching for Santana, trying to get deep breaths back.

The lifeguard was in shock, and so Adrien took to his phone and yelled Greek into the receiver to which Quinn could only assume was him calling for an ambulance.

"Santana," Brittany finally managed, "Santana,"

Santana had already covered her completely with her arms, wrapping Adrien's shirt around Brittany, stroking her forehead, "Shhh baby, don't speak right now,"

"I love you," Brittany coughed, "I love you Santana,"

"I have you," Santana whispered into her ear, "I have you again,"

In all the chaos that was still clinging to them, on this small beach, with the sky still swirling, and the waves still speaking loudly, Quinn felt the one thing that she just _needed_, she felt Rachel slip her hand through hers and squeeze.

**. . .**

For the third time tonight, Quinn awoke with stomach pains. She didn't know whether it was because she was still grappling with today's aftermath, or whether Adrien's cooking was just not sitting properly.

She slipped her hand under her shirt, rubbing small circles in an effort to rub away the ache, what she really needed was _Advil_.

Moving quietly as to not wake Rachel, she slipped from the sheets and made her way out into the hall.

Tiptoeing across the moonlit floor boards beneath her feet, she passed Spyros and Frannie's room and slightly grinned at his snoring, before gently peeking in at Hugh's nursery.

Quinn frowned at the shadowed figure crouching beside the crib, "Santana?" Quinn whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I like watching him sleep," she murmured, not taking her eyes away from Hugh.

Quinn crawled down beside her, "But it's 2AM"

Santana shrugged, "Makes no difference, his little breaths are all the same,"

Quinn exhaled softly; god Santana had basically been through hell and back today.

"There was so much blood," Santana whimpered softly.

Quinn frowned, she was confused over what she was talking about.

"When I found you that day, there was just so much blood,"

"God San," Quinn replied, gripping the small bars to steady herself, "Why are you thinking about this?"

"Look at him," Santana murmured.

But Quinn didn't need to; she knew every inch of Hugh like it had been a chore to study him. It's true what they say about loving something so much it's ingrained in your mind and you don't even have to open your eyes to catch a glimpse of it.

"He's so small and tiny, I just want to protect him. You had one of those inside you Quinn, why did yours not make it?"

Quinn sighed slightly, "I don't know,"

This was normal wasn't it, maybe her stomach pains were connected to Hugh's birth, old memories and experiences resurface when prompted don't they? Is this what was happening?

"I could have lost Brittany today,"

"But you didn't," Quinn reasoned.

"But who determines that? Don't you ever wonder who determines what plays out? Why can't we control it?"

Quinn's mind immediately drifted to her grandfather, "Things happen San," she replied stroking the back of her head, "Things happen that we have no say over, sometimes we like it, other times we don't, but either way, we all find reasons to get by,"

"Do you wish the baby had of survived?" Santana asked softly.

Quinn bit her lip slightly, she had never been asked this question properly, and maybe it was because she had never been able to answer it herself.

"I use to," she responded quietly, "But then I realised that I wouldn't be who I am now, if things had of gone differently,"

"So it was meant to be," Santana sighed.

"Everything's meant to be Santana," she answered, tugging at her sweater, "Even the things that hurt us,"

"How is it possible for this little man to make me feel so much better?"

Quinn looked at her nephew, his small face and mop of dark hair peeking out from the cotton blankets, his quiet breaths tiny and delicate through his button nose.

Children possess this innocence that we all crave so dearly. This aura that tells you how much they need you to protect them. What most people can't see, is that really, children are the ones protecting us.

"I love him so much," Quinn smiled, and she felt the sharp pains in her stomach slowly subsiding.

"Me too," Santana grinned, "I don't want to leave him,"

Quinn shrugged in response, "We'll be back, every summer, as promised..."

Santana held out her pinky finger, "Promise..."

Quinn glanced at it for a second through the dark, "You know, you have only ever done that with Britt,"

Santana's eyes glinted, "It's because in my heart, I've never wanted to promise anything to anyone when I thought I couldn't keep it,"

She wiggled her pinky, "This is me promising to stay apart of your family,"

Quinn wanted to hug her, but she knew the pinky was an important gesture from Santana, and she took it anyway.

* * *

><p>"I love that this kitchen always smells so good," Brittany grinned, from where she sat on top of the kitchen counter.<p>

Santana eyed her, "Which is why we can stay here all day, for the rest of the week?"

Brittany huffed, "Baby I want to see the rest of the villages!"

"But it's dangerous!"

"Sweetheart," Judy interrupted, shaking a small rattle in front of Hugh's face as she cradled him, "I understand what happened was horrific, but don't box Brittany in,"

Brittany nodded in agreement, to which Santana scowled.

"Judy's right," Rachel responded, circling the last of her brochure, "I really want to go see the _Baths__of__Aphrodite_,"

"That's in Cyprus," Frannie snorted, walking into the kitchen with the oil she had been looking for.

Rachel shrugged, "So? It'll be an adventure,"

"And a long ferry ride," Frannie responded.

"What is it baby?" Quinn asked pushing aside the newspaper that had been left on the table; her Greek reading was still ridiculously crap.

Rachel smiled, "Well legend has it that Aphrodite use to take her bath in a cool pond near Polis with a magnificent view of the bay," she paused, waiting for a reaction and Quinn seemed to be the only one to give it to her.

"Anyway it's where she met her beloved Adonis for the first time, and they were so struck by each other's beauty, that they fell in love,"

"And?" Santana asked.

"And," Rachel pressed, "Legend has it, that if you can collect or drink the water from there, you will have eternal love forever,"

Santana snorted with laughter, "You kill me Berrybox,"

"Don't mock her!" Frannie replied, "Spyros and I have done it before,"

Rachel grinned sheepishly, "I think we should go, we only have a few days left here,"

Quinn kissed her cheek.

Brittany shrugged popping a handful of grapes in her mouth, "Let's do it,"

"As long as we take life jackets," Santana replied, still apprehensive.

Quinn went to reply, but the phone broke out through the kitchen with a sharp squeal causing her to jump.

Judy handed Hugh to Frannie, just as Brittany stopped making faces at him, to answer the phone.

"Mum?" Quinn said turning away from Santana after seeing her reaction, "Mum what's wrong?"

Judy Fabray's face had gone stone cold white. The only other time Quinn had seen her mother's face turn this colour, was when her employment agency told her she may be left redundant.

"Mum?" Frannie said, balancing Hugh in her arms, "Mum who was that?"

Judy's eyes fell over her daughters, "Your grandfather," she choked, "he's- he has- he's had a stroke,"

Silence is measured in nothing but just that.

Silence.

* * *

><p>P.S little readers,<p>

I know I took longer than a stars rotation to update... but I'm back in Australia... so I'll flood you with chapters :) as long as you keep me posted on your thoughts! My ideas come from the fandom remember! This is all for you guys!

Also I left my heart in America... if anyone finds it... keep it warm for me until I get back!


	33. Chapter 32

Hi my devoted Little Readers!

Everyone excited for Christmas? For those of you who aren't, I just want to let you know that even if some people have wonderful Christmas' and other people not so much, there will always be someone out there in the world hoping yours is the best it can be.

So this is me telling you guys that I hope you're safe, I wish you love and freedom, and not to think about what you're getting, but rather what you can give to the world.

I also have some exciting news involving my new website, Itunes and some original work of mine so stay tuned in the New Year and keep updated!

belikecourtney (twitter)

itsonlyyforever (tumblr)

and of course for now, happy reading!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 32<strong>

_Summer's ending, returning to Ohio_

_We try so desperately to hold onto the things we don't want to change_

* * *

><p>Sooner or later, the time comes in our lives when we're we are forced to become a responsible adult. We learn to give up all our wants and our needs so that we can choose what is right, what is practical and what is sensible.<p>

A lifetime of responsibility isn't easy.

But no one has ever said it was.

As the years continue, the seasons pass, the memories flow on and on, this responsibility becomes a burden, something that may be a little too hard to bear just on our own shoulders.

You think you're invisible sometimes don't you.

It's okay, we all do.

Sometimes a lot of people think it.

People think they can just play the hero card in all their situations. Like the responsibility to carry their world, their home, their life; is just on their shoulders; and theirs alone.

People should know that there are other people out there who are willing to help you fight the good fight.

You just need to let them in.

Sometimes, even hero's need to be saved.

Quinn stared at her mother sitting at the kitchen table, her head was buried in her hands, her shoulders slumped over, her dinner untouched, Russell rubbing circles across her back, trailing his thumb down her spine, trying to find ways to soothe her.

They say that children very rarely remember the early moments of their lives, and yet quite naturally, their parents will remember everything. They say that only sometimes, when we've grown up, or when we're learning to grow up, that certain moments will trigger certain memories from when we were really young.

Staring at her mother, Quinn remembers trailing behind her in the grocery store every Thursday afternoon when she was half way through elementary. It was one of the few times that Quinn had been able to spend time alone with her. Every other time, Judy was either in the kitchen cooking, trying to deal with Frannie's aggressive teenage outbursts, cleaning rooms; finding time to be a wife, and nearly drowning under all the pressures that came with being a mother, who was also a sought after lawyer.

Quinn would stay so close to her, watching as she filtered her way down the aisles, picking and choosing the things that she needed on her grocery list. Quinn's favourite aisle had been the breakfast supplies. She just remembers always choosing her breakfast meal based on what the reward was in the box. Sometimes it was a small flying plane, other times it was a CD with poorly mixed _Spice Girls_ or *_NSYNC_. More often than not it was a mystery puzzle that she would sit for months after trying to decode. Her favourite had been the small carefully crafted camera. Sure it wasn't a real one, in fact the most it did, was just swap pictures of the sky each time she clicked the shutter button. But even so Quinn had suffered through an entire month of porridge flakes just so she could have the cereal with that camera inside.

Throughout Quinn's entire life she had always seen her mum as this super human. This woman who was a Plaintiff Attorney, in Lima's biggest law firm, dealing with class action or personal injury lawsuits, as well as product liability and medical malpractice; at the same time she was on the PTA for both daughters, could still cook at least three times a week, and somehow managed to do the vacuuming before date night with their father. It was only now, watching as she sobbed into her father's arms, that Quinn realised her mother most probably also had to spend nights picking super glue out of her rugs, wiping smudge marks from the hallway walls, and then at the same time forget to separate the whites from the colours and then have to bleach Quinn's cheerleading uniform.

Maybe this is the dividing line between a parent and their child. The moment that the child finally sees their parent for what they really are; human.

For all those times that a child confides in their parents, that they tell them how much they love them, and that they do something without being asked, there are so many more moments of error, self doubt and torment. Every parent wants their child to grow up and do great things. They want them to be next Albert Einstein, the first person to cure cancer, the Quarterback of the football team or the prettiest girl in school. No parent will ever look at their child and think, you know what I hope they grow up to be different, I hope they grow up to be a loser or the kid who gets no attention. All across the world though, kids are growing up just like that; and there's only a few defining moments in a parents life, when they'll look at their child and realise, maybe they grew up just the way they wanted them to. Maybe they grew up knowing that being different is the better way.

It's true what they say, about how you will never know the reasons behind your parent's decisions until you have your own children. Quinn stood from the stairs; she wandered from the landing towards the kitchen. There weren't any real words needed as she gently made her way to her parents. Seeing your mother cry is like watching the saddest movie, listening to the saddest song and then thinking about the worst moment of your life all at the same time. Judy's tears shone down her cheeks, as the tissue remained cusped in her fist, her eyes glistening under the kitchen ceiling light.

It was just in the way her mother reached for Quinn's hand, and held it. She held it in hers and she squeezed.

"We'll be okay Mum," Quinn whispered.

Russell breathed deeply for a moment, "Quinn we want you to understand that your Pop's condition is very serious,"

Quinn felt the lump growing in the back of her throat.

"Typically," her father continued softly, "Alzheimer's disease leads to confusion, trouble with language and long term memory loss," Russel took another breath, "Your grandfather progressed rather quickly with this disease in our absence, and even though he seems to be recovering from the slight stroke, only time will tell with how the Alzheimer's effects him,"

Quinn winced as her mother released another long shudder, "He's just going to need support Quinnie," she responded, "And for us to be as understanding as possible,"

"But it's not fair," Quinn responded, "He doesn't deserve this,"

"No one deserves this sweetheart," Russell replied, "But we have to be a family now,"

"What about Frannie? Spyros? Are they going to come and bring Hugh?"

Judy took a deep breath, "Spyros is trying to get time off work, but Hugh is still so fragile darling, they are just playing it by ear…"

"But we don't know how long…"

"Don't baby girl," Judy quivered, "Please, I'm not ready to hear you say those words,"

Quinn stared at her mother, none of them would ever really be ready to hear those words.

* * *

><p>Maybe the most interesting thing about the world is that it is very rarely the way it's supposed to be. Particularly in summer time. Where collectively, the moments you have throughout this part of the year are all noted down through songs that made memories, moments that made laughter and points in time that made you stop and wonder if life could get any better.<p>

Summer time is a collection of playground swing sets, late night talks amongst the fireflies, talking up at the sky whilst lying on your backs, hoping beyond reason that the next summer will last just that little bit longer.

There are some things that people try to avoid talking about for two very specific reasons; they don't mean so much, or they mean absolutely everything.

"The photos you were uploading looked amazing," Kurt said, from where he sat on the edge of Quinn's bed, "Thank god for Facebook updates,"

She looked up as she hung the remaining of her dresses in her wardrobe, "I wish you could have been there… you would have loved it,"

Kurt half grinned, "Oh too many lathered up Greek men, I might have gone insane…"

Quinn smiled at him, "You would have been okay,"

Kurt took a steady breath, "So I need to tell you something,"

At first she thought this was it, this was when he was going to launch into the ordeal and explain everything the way he saw it, and she just wasn't so sure she could handle that.

"I think I have a crush on someone,"

Quinn raised her eye brows at him, "Come again?"

"And I know crush is just a clique, middle school word, but every time I speak to him… I just… I can't even explain it,"

For the first time, in the entire week that she had been back, Quinn actually smiled.

"Where did you meet him?"

Kurt bit his lip, "Well that's the thing,"

Quinn immediately felt her insides churn, "Kurt please don't tell me…"

"No it's not like that Quinn, he's our age, he goes to Warbler Academy, but I haven't actually met him in person so to speak,"

Quinn wanted to slap her hand to her forehead.

"No really, it's not like what you think okay, we just started taking through my blog, and I don't know Quinn, he's…" Kurt trailed off for a moment, "He's not like anyone else you know, he's just refreshing, and interesting… and really cute…"

"Kurt!" Quinn said, "You talk to him through a blog? That's not talking to someone,"

Kurt looked at her flatly, "Can I remind you of something that started with letters?"

Quinn immediately closed her mouth; "You got me there,"

"There's something about talking to someone when all they can use is their words, sometimes you find that people open up more…"

"But Kurt it's dangerous…"

"I'm not saying it works for everyone Quinn, I'm not denying that the internet is a dangerous place, all I'm saying is Blaine, well, I can't stop thinking about him…"

Quinn shrugged, "Well I can't talk," she replied, "I didn't even know who Rachel was and I was already crazy about her…"

"Do you think there's someone out there for everyone?"

Quinn thought on this a moment, "Honesty? Yeah I do… but I also think that finding that person takes more than we can ever possibly understand,"

Kurt thought on this a moment, "He's transferring to McKinley you know, and part of me isn't so sure how that will turn out,"

Quinn smiled at him, "Kurt if you like this guy, then just don't think all that much into it, see what happens, just be you…"

"But what if that's not enough?"

"Then this Blaine kid isn't enough," she replied.

Have you ever thought that maybe in certain moments of your life, you can feel how slowly the earth moves? You can feel it gradually rotating to the point you actually feel your bones and your organs moving along with it? Almost like your brain is falling over itself, like your heart is turning upside down and your stomach is crumbling beneath you. In these moments do you ever feel like you can imagine every single detail of it for the rest of your life? Like those minutes will always be etched so specifically somewhere in your mind? Maybe that's what a crush feels like, not knowing what these feelings are exactly, but understanding that this person seems to be evaporating all your thoughts throughout every minute of every day.

There are a lot of things that can be solved by numbers. 2_x_ + 1 - 1 = -17 – 1 and 70 is 40% of 175. And yet for all the times we attempt to calculate the meaning of love, we just can't seem to do it. We can't create diagrams or map or put into a pie graph how long or short a time it takes to fall in love. We can't draw charts of how much one person loves another and so on and so forth.

Mostly for the simple reason that love is not an equation.

Love is not something that you sign with ink and make a contract. Love deserves more than that, love is the words spilt between pages, the air between spaces, the ground beneath a home that is built. And maybe, just maybe, love finds its way into the most interesting places, all because it can.

"I'm sorry I didn't pick up on the signs better," Kurt said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Quinn looked at Kurt, as he stared back at her from across the room, she knew that eventually she was going to have to hear his side of things. She had wanted to right from the start, to console him for what he had been through, but at the same time, part of her just didn't want to know; purely because she wasn't sure how her own heart would take it.

"Don't do that," she replied, "Don't think that any of this is your fault,"

"But Quinn!" he said a lot more shakily than usual, "I was with him every single day!"

Quinn wanted to cry, she wanted to be angry, she wanted to try and find blame on anything else other than the simple fact all this had just happened because it had.

"Pop will get through this," she whispered.

"The stroke yes," Kurt responded softly, "But he has… he… he's…"

Even Kurt couldn't say it. Quinn had already had the discussion with her parents; they had already attempted to explain the things that she needed to know. But she wanted more, she wanted to know every single detail about the disease, so that maybe by some miracle, she would find a cure for it.

Quinn wanted to know more, Kurt couldn't even say its name.

"It's a common occurrence in older people," she replied, in the same melodramatic tone she imagined the doctor would have told her parents.

Kurt's eyes had glazed over, "It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen,"

Quinn knew he was talking about finding her grandfather. But the thought of Arthur being so frail was too unbearable for her to even answer.

"I can't believe summer's over," he said trying to change the subject, "To think we'll be seniors,"

Quinn didn't even want to think about school, four days from now and mayhem started. She didn't want to go to Puck's end of year summer party, she didn't want to do anything other than move in with her grandfather and stay permanently attached to his side.

"I don't care about school right now," Quinn said flatly, "I feel like my best friend has been placed in an hour glass and I'll be dammed if I waste time at McKinley High,"

Kurt looked at her with a frown on his face, "What are you saying Little B?"

Quinn took a deep breath, "I'm saying I might not go back for senior year…"

"You can't do that,"

They both jumped as Rachel suddenly stood in Quinn's bedroom doorway, her eyes firmly set on Quinn's.

"Rach…"

"Were you going to talk to me about this?"

Quinn sighed, "Rachel you don't get…."

"Don't finish that sentence," Kurt warned.

"Quinn, I love your grandfather, but I know for a fact that if you even consider not returning to school, he would shoot you…"

"Yeah well, soon he won't even know what my name is," she shot back angrily.

Rachel was taken aback.

"Quinn you don't know how aggressive…"

"It's aggressive," she cut Kurt off, "You don't live here, you don't hear my parents discussing it late at night,"

"Because you don't communicate anything with me!" Rachel snapped, and immediately Kurt seemed to shrivel.

"You don't answer phone calls, you don't write back to messages, if Dad hadn't convinced me to show up here, when was I going to see you Quinn?"

Quinn folded her arms, "I'm really stressed out right now, don't put this on me…"

Christ they were having their first couple argument and Kurt was witnessing the entire thing.

"Yeah well I'm stressed too," Rachel responded, "and I need my girlfriend,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Stressed about what Rachel? Your song choice to kick off senior year?"

Kurt brought his hand to his mouth in response, as Quinn immediately felt horrible.

"Rachel… I…."

"My mother is back," Rachel said flatly, "As in my biological mother. She's back in town and apparently going to be teaching at McKinley…"

Kurt's jaw had just about hit the floor and Quinn's wasn't far behind him.

"Here I was thinking we'd help each other through all of this mess. Remind me not to take my Dads advice again, and just stay away…"

Before Quinn could say anything, Rachel had stormed from the room.

"God Quinn," Kurt breathed softly.

"I can't believe I just said that," she responded, "I'm sorry Kurt, I have to…"

"If you didn't run after her, I would be slapping you myself," he responded.

Quinn gave him a small smile, knowing he would amuse himself, before running from her room.

By the time Quinn had sprinted out her front door, Rachel was already climbing into her car. Without thinking Quinn jumped out in front of it, and immediately she saw Rachel have a near attack, before screaming and cursing at her from behind the windshield.

Quinn bit her lip, waiting as Rachel sprung up out of the vehicle.

"Estás loco? Have you lost it Fives?" she screamed, "I could have run you over!"

Quinn frowned, "Since when do you know Spanish?" she replied.

"Since Santana calls me complaining about gas prices, these calls are really practical for learning to curse," she answered folding her arms.

Quinn sighed, moving lightly towards her, "Baby, I didn't mean what I said…"

"Well it still hurt," she replied tightening her arms around her body.

"Don't do that," Quinn whispered, reaching out and pulling at Rachel's arm.

"Do what?" Rachel asked.

"Shield yourself from me," Quinn replied, "Don't put walls up…"

"I've done that my whole life Quinn, it's helped me through…"

"But I'm here now smalls," she murmured, and she wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist.

Rachel seemed to relax almost instantly.

"We'll get through this," Quinn smiled gently, kissing her, "With Pop, and your mum and just everything else,"

"Just don't push me away Quinn," she said firmly, "Don't do that, because I don't think I could handle it,"

Quinn cupped Rachel's face in her hands, running her lips over hers in that way that always made Rachel tremble.

"I need you so bad right now," she whispered sliding her tongue between Rachel's lips, and she could tell Rachel was nearly ready to fall apart.

"Kurt…."

Quinn stopped kissing her, "Why are you thinking about Kurt right now? My lips are pretty much making love to yours…"

"No," Rachel said rolling her eyes, "Kurt," and Quinn saw Rachel nod her head to Quinn's bedroom window.

Sure enough there he was clapping his hands together and jumping up and down.

Quinn laughed, "You know I think he has an Internet boyfriend,"

Rachel immediately went white, "Quinn that's not…"

"No he's a Warbler, transferring to McKinley for our senior year…"

Rachel opened her mouth before smiling, "Name please…"

Quinn had to think for a moment, "Anderson," she replied, "Blaine Anderson…"

Rachel's eyes immediately lit up, causing Quinn to frown.

"Well," she said grinning, "Looks like my opening number won't be so difficult after all,"

Quinn couldn't be bothered asking her what she meant like this, because she could still taste Rachel's lips in her mouth, and she just wanted more.

* * *

><p>Quinn walked south from Dudley road, trailing past Mrs Cheridens garden, passing the old skateboard shop, glancing left at the gas station that ran out of gas three years ago but still sold fresh lemonade. She walked away from the pavement, allowing her shoes to sink into the softened grass that had been left vulnerable from the rain last night. Quinn turned on her toes a moment, to stare a handful of small children playing in the mud by the curb, bouncing a small ball made of rags in between their circle. She watched as their bony arms reached high into the air to be the first for the neat catch.<p>

God she would give anything to be one of those kids right now, with the only concern was making sure they wiped the mud from their shoes before they saw their mothers again.

After a moment, Quinn drifted in through her grandfather's front gates, knowing that someday soon, someone was going to have to start caring for the garden, purely because he just wouldn't be able to do it anymore. Before Quinn could even make it to the front porch, she sunk to her knees before the first step and she hung her head, her cardigan draped over her boots like an old child's blanket, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. God how was this supposed to be okay, how was anything going to be okay, now that everything was about to change.

The air around her was warm and fresh, but her lungs breathed in a chill, her insides felt like ice, all because she felt like her family was about to collide with an iceberg, and there was nothing that any of them could do to prevent it. As soon as the chill had begun, she felt warmth wrap around her shoulders, batting off the goose bumps that had begun to cling to her skin. A pair of familiar, crinkly arms encircled her shoulders and hummed a hello. One pale slender hand gripped her left shoulder and the other moulded underneath her arm to lift Quinn to her feet.

"Why are you all the way down there Quinnie?"

Quinn looked up at her grandfather, as he, despite all that he had been through, managed to pick her up off the ground.

"Tying my shoelaces," Quinn lied.

Arthur made a face, "You haven't worn shoes with laces since Miss Berry insisted you wear ballet flats for better movement on stage…"

Quinn sighed at his words. His voice was still so soothing and caring, even if pain had laced its way through Quinn's insides, coiling around her muscles and wanting her entire body to contract again into a ball.

"Pop," she said softly, "You shouldn't be out of bed,"

"And you should be getting school supplies, don't you seniors have to have special markers these days?"

Quinn looked at him, she looked at him with nothing but seriousness, "I don't care about school Pop, I'm coming here every day…"

Arthur sighed heavily, "Now why would you say such a thing Quinnie,"

"Because I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions,"

She watched him raise his eyebrows, "Well, if you're an adult, how about we have an adult conversation? It starts with my forbidding you to come here…"

Quinn shot back, "You can't say that!"

"Well you can't say that you're dropping out of your senior year,"

Quinn wanted to shake him, "Pop, please… this… I can't…"

"Quinnie!" he said softly, "Do you want to know what Antoine Rivarol once said? He said that memory always obeys the commands of the heart,"

Quinn frowned at him, "Pop I don't under…."

"You will one day kid," he smiled.

Quinn looked back at him softly, before he tugged her forward up the porch steps and nodded his head towards the chessboard sitting in its familiar place.

Arthur grinned at her lightly, "I haven't forgotten to play Chess yet Quinnie, I'm still as sharp as a tack,"

Quinn fought her lips not to quiver, "Grandad, please I just…"

"Oh Quinnie," he shrugged, "Just play chess with me…"

Quinn looked at him, looked at his crinkled face, his bright eyes, his crooked little smile, how could she continue with anything, knowing that time was only going to take him from her, knowing that eventually, he would slip away, and there wasn't anything she could do about it. She followed him though, sat in one of the chairs, crossed her legs, and watched as he poured them both ice tea.

"I don't want you to forget me," she suddenly whispered.

Arthur straightened in the chair, moved the ice tea aside and reached for Quinn's hand; she felt warmness, even though his old hands were scarred from his army days. He looked her directly in her eyes.

"Now you listen here," he said defiantly, "My whole life, I have relied on my brain to show me things, teach me things, and choose right from wrong. But never have I ever asked it to control or to understand what my heart feels…"

Quinn was going to lose it.

"Now this old noggin," and he tapped the side of his head lightly, "Might be fading, but I promise you Quinnie, my old ticker would never forget how much I love you, even if someone ripped it out and threw it out in the ocean…"

"But Pop, it's going to be…."

"I know it is darling, and by word I hate that this is what is happening, not for me, but for you, and for my Judy and Russell and our family…" he paused a moment, sighing and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, "But Quinnie, the sun WILL come out tomorrow…"

Quinn smiled lightly, as her Grandad grinned at her, "Sing it with me Quinnie…"

_The sun'll come out_

_Tomorrow_

_Bet your bottom dollar_

_That tomorrow_

_There'll be sun!_

_Just thinkin' about_

_Tomorrow_

Quinn loved that her grandfather couldn't seem to carry a tune, and her harmonies overruled his, like Caesar did the day he conquered Rome, but from this moment on, she knew, that no matter where her grandfather's mind wandered, in his heart, they would always have their song.

* * *

><p>Here's the thing, sooner or later, whether it's a conscious decision or not, you're going to make the decision to divide your life into before and after. That emptiness that sits in the middle, well all its going to take is one slow doubling back, to be completely aware of the space in your centre.<p>

So what will fill that space?

Why is it there?

Is this empty space an indication of the very fact you're still trying to find your place?

You're sitting there trying to blame everyone else around you, for the very fact you're walking around blind. Blind to the very real possibility that who you really are might very well be right in front of you. For the most part, people complain about how blinding life is, about how much our lives get in the way of discovering ourselves.

You want to know a secret?

Generally we're the ones holding the blindfold over our eyes.

"Oh I'm quite positive this years extra curricula's will be marred with parental concern for global warming,"

Rachel stared at Kurt briefly, "As long as we star in _West Side Story_, I'm quite prepared to deal with ice bergs melting,"

Quinn sighed lightly, "I'm going to go for a run,"

"A run?" Kurt asked blankly.

"Yes," Rachel responded eyeing her, "This thing where she disappears for an hour or so, apparently jogging, when in reality I know she's out probably lost amongst the shelves at the library…"

Quinn smirked, "I just need to clear my head okay,"

Lima's County Library was exactly where Quinn had been spending the past few days, and not in a section that she would normally trail through. She had been spending nearly every waking hour skimming through medical books. Part of her knew she was wasting her time, and she didn't even understand why she was doing it, but then the other part of her found comfort in gaining knowledge.

Like she was gaining strength against it.

"You know, you probably don't have dementia, just a poor studying schedule,"

Quinn looked up from where she had been heavily engrossed in '_The 36 hour day'_ novel by a renowned brain surgeon.

"Excuse me?" she asked eying the young man before her.

"The books," he repeated, "Studying for classes?"

Quinn cleared her throat slightly, "Um, High school classes not so much,"

His eyebrows raised, "High school, really? Wow you look older,"

Quinn shrugged a little, "I get that a lot,"

He extended his hand, "Jeremy," he said smiling at her.

Quinn had to talk herself into being nice, before extending her own hand and shaking it.

"So senior?"

Quinn nodded, "In three days,"

Jeremy laughed, "Yep, I remember those days,"

"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but I'm just dealing with a lot right now, and I really don't want to be wasting my time with small talk,"

He shrugged, "Fair enough… boyfriend huh?"

"Girlfriend actually," She responded eying him.

Jeremy smirked, "Well then, beggars can't be chooses hey, whose the one with Alzheimer's?"

Quinn bit her lip, she loved coming to this library, she loved how organised it was, how quiet it was, how the walls were so delicately and carefully painted, and especially the smell of the books. But right now she did not like having to give her life away to a stranger.

"My grandfather,"

Jeremy nodded, "My Dad passed from it not too long ago actually,"

Quinn stilled, "I'm sorry…" she stammered, and yet Jeremy merely shrugged.

"You don't know me do you?"

"Was it…"

"Yes," he replied, knowing what she was going to ask, "And yeah by the end, he didn't even recognise who I was,"

Quinn wanted to vomit, "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Jeremy shrugged, "But man, if I could do it over? I would have done things a hell of lot differently,"

Quinn looked at him curiously, "So what do you think I should do?"

"Make him never be able to forget you," he answered.

"How?"

"By completely changing yourself,"

**. . .**

Perhaps humans have this ability to miss the chances that are presented before them. It might not necessarily be because they don't see the chance. But rather they don't have anyone to share the chance with. How is that you could walk past thousands of people, without so much as another glance in their direction, but then it takes just one person, one person out of that sea of thousands, and suddenly you can't ever imagine taking your eyes off them again?

"You okay?"

Quinn glanced sideways, as Mercedes threw a handful of cups into the trashcan.

"Fine," Quinn lied.

"You know if you need anything this year Q,"

"I know," she responded quietly, and she allowed Mercedes to squeeze her shoulders before making her way back to Puck's decking area.

About an hour ago, Quinn had managed to sneak away from the drinking games, and the usual chatter that marked the end of summer and the start of another school year. Over the years it had all changed so drastically, and she couldn't help but realise that this was just another school year full of change heading their way as well.

"You know, I remember this really drunk girl last year, coming out here and making a fool of herself,"

Quinn felt those goose bumps again, as Rachel curled into her.

"I don't really remember the fool part as much, although I do remember the adorable nickname she came up with,"

Rachel smiled slightly before becoming serious, "Talk to me baby, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know," Quinn whispered, "I don't know what to feel anymore,"

She pushed away from Rachel gently and slid down the side of the fence to the ground, landing with a heavy heart.

"What do you want me to do?" Rachel murmured.

"Just make me forget," Quinn replied, "Just make me forget about everything,"

Rachel immediately crawled onto Quinn's lap, lacing her fingers through her hair, and pressing their foreheads together.

"Promise me something," she whispered.

"Anything," Quinn replied, kissing her softly.

"Even if the world around us changes, just promise that we won't,"

"That's an awfully big promise Smalls," she answered brushing Rachel's hair behind her ear.

"I mean not us specifically fives, I just mean what we have, this…" and Rachel pressed her hand to Quinn's chest, "Promise _this _won't change,"

Quinn smiled lightly, Rachel was always so adorable when they were having serious conversations, "If it did baby, my heart would stop beating, not loving you, is like dying…" she pulled at Rachel's bottom lip, "and I don't want to die…"

"To die would be an awfully great adventure…" Rachel responded, mimicking _Peter Pan_, which made Quinn melt over their personal joke.

"Not without you," she whispered.

There's an old saying about being in love. It goes a little something along the lines, that when you're in love, nothing in the world really matters. Before Rachel, Quinn would have maybe gone along with this theory. But now it doesn't seem all that accurate.

When you're in love, things do matter, in fact it might be possible to say that things matter just that little bit more.

* * *

><p>P.S … yes I haven't included all the characters from Glee (there's so many..)<p>

But I'm bringing a few in through the next chapters (Blaine & Sam included)

Do you guys want to see anyone else? I hear Sugar is popular?

Give me thoughts guys!


	34. Chapter 33

Little Readers,

You're all pretty awesome, I hope you know that… and also extremely eager for chapter updates… I'm only human remember ;)

Shout out to (_yesmycasioiscool_) because I was struggling with some dialogue and YOU saved me!

Merry Reading? I thought that would work ha (why do I even do these author notes… you guys must hateee me!)

Court x

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 33<strong>

Beginning of Senior Year

_Maybe the music starts in the piano_

* * *

><p>You know who you are and what ever you're capable of doing, should always surprise you.<p>

In a town like Lima Ohio, it's a little bit of a common occurrence for everyone to know your business. Talk and change spreads like spilt milk on a coffee table. More often than not the talk gets mixed up, exactly like the way that game goes, you whisper a sentence in someone's ear, and by the time you get to the last person its all muddled up. Most people have the details wrong, but the core of the story, well, that's usually what everyone's talking about anyway.

Quinn hadn't been to school in a week. The first week back and she had forged a letter from her mother telling Principal Figgins that they were still in Greece. She had spent every waking hour with Jeremy, who turns out had a sister at McKinley. Mackenzie, resident head of The Skanks, which were a few girls, who basically didn't give a shit about anything, and did whatever the hell they wanted. Quinn wasn't sure how it had all started, she just knew she had needed an out, something to take her mind off everything that was going on, something that was going to let her do whatever she wanted.

The Skanks gave that to her.

She had spoken to Rachel three times. All of them were one-word answers to her worried questions.

Now standing in front of the school, the early morning sunlight blinking at her, she felt like the building didn't even recognize her. As though it was staring back at her, thinking that she was someone new, ready to join the original body of students. Maybe she _was _new, maybe this was the new Quinn walking through the doors and no one was going to remember the old one.

When you're different, or when you act a little different to the people around you; its almost like you become a stray leaf on someone's wind shield. They can see you the entire time they're driving, because you're stuck to the clear glass of their lives, and the only thing they notice is _you_, because you're somewhere you shouldn't be. People always say you should just let the world know you as who you really are, because if you pretend to be someone your not, well eventually one day you're going to forget to pretend, you'll forget to put on this mask, and then where are you?

Who are you then?

The only problem Quinn was finding right now, was that who she thought she was, wasn't exactly who she wanted to be.

Quinn brushed past the newest freshman's, making them scatter in three different directions, but her eyes were so focused on the ground she didn't even bother apologizing. Quinn wasn't sure what her tipping point was. It had virtually happened this week, dying her hair, allowing Jeremy to piece her nose, a tattoo on her lower back, but what she did know, is that she was never going back.

**. . .**

"I'm calling an intervention,"

Quinn looked up from where she pulled the lighter from her locker.

Smoking wasn't that bad was it? It looked cool right?

"Not now Kurt,"

"Absolutely now," he said flatly, "I don't even know what strip club you just came from, what the hell is this?"

"It's who I am, that's what it is,"

"You were M.I.A for the first week and suddenly you rock up looking like a backwards Pink Lady?"

Quinn gritted her teeth, as Mercedes was suddenly beside the locker as well, "Damn white girl, I liked the golden locks better,"

"I don't care what you liked, this is what I like,"

Kurt scoffed, "You spend one week with Jeremy the college boy and his band of misfits and suddenly this is the Quinn you've always been?"

Mercedes cleared her throat slightly, "Well at least you might add some flair to Glee Club,"

Quinn shook her head, "I'm not coming back to Glee, I'd rather spend it under the bleachers,"

Kurt seemed shell shocked, "You are absolutely kidding right? This is just a joke right? Where's Ashton Kutcher?"

"Grow up Kurt…"

That seemed to hit him as though Quinn had literally slapped him, "Actually I don't want to grow up just yet, it's my last year of high school and I'm going to spend it doing what I love, being in Glee Club!"

"Rachel is going to flip when she sees you,"

Quinn huffed as Puck slid into view, his backpack slung loosely over this shoulder, his pants half way around his ankles.

"For crying out loud just let me get the shit from my locker would you…"

Puck shrugged, "You got anything growing in there for me?"

"Stop it," Mercedes interjected, 'This is absurd, Quinn you were gone for a week, its like they've brainwashed you,"

"Just get out of my way would you,"

"Quinn?"

Quinn wanted to punch the side of the locker, she needed air, she needed away from this, these people, they would make her come back, she knew they would, she wasn't as strong as what she was making out to be. One word from any of them, and she would just forget whatever the hell she was doing.

"I seriously thought you were another transfer student," Mike grinned, "We have three, but I guess your new look makes it four?"

"She's not a transfer student, she's a identity crisis student," Tina sighed coming up behind him, "But can you fix yourself, because Rachel is literally going to walk around that corner any min…."

You know, sometimes fate is like a really overcrowded and overpopulated restaurant. You sit right in the middle of it and have these waiters deliver you all types of things you didn't even order. Sometimes you like the dishes, other times you hate them, but you have absolutely no control over what's brought out to you. This moment was a little like that. A waiter had dumped Rachel in the middle of the corridor and she was staring at Quinn like she had absolutely no idea who she was.

"Hi," Quinn muttered and instantly she felt nearly all of their friends back right away.

"I'm sorry," Rachel replied flatly, "I don't speak to strangers,"

Sometimes young people think they're invincible. They think their whole lives are ahead of them, they have these huge plans, and all their dreams will come true. But then they get a little older, and suddenly those dreams become harder and harder to reach. Quinn was trying so desperately not to give up hope. At the end of the day when she's old, and maybe a little grey, she'll want to stop somewhere one day and think about who she was all those years ago. What if she looked back and can't say that she made the most of what life gave her?

She needed to find who she was, she needed to be someone her grandfather could never forget. He was already wondering why the deck was painted grey; when it should be blue. But that's just it, he painted over the blue five years ago.

"You're not coming with us are you?" Tina asked softly.

Quinn shook her head, "I have better things to do,"

"What like channel Gwen Stefani?" Mercedes asked sarcastically.

"Let her go," Kurt huffed, "I don't think I like what my best friend is right now anyway…"

They say sometimes its easier when its just you. It's easier because you don't have to deal with what everyone else around you thinks.

Here's the thing though, what happens if you don't like who you are, what do you do then?

**. . .**

Quinn had skipped science. She had skipped math. She had skipped history for the first time in all her life and she had definitely skipped Glee. But walking through these halls she could almost just see Rachel in every corner. She could see how this was hurting her, she could see the burn of disappointment, and yet all she seemed to do was swallow the broken expectations that teased her heart, and try to gain control again.

Who was she kidding honestly?

To think that this is what she wanted.

But she wasn't doing it for her right; she was trying to be something her grandfather would never forget.

Why couldn't anyone see that?

Quinn would come home and it was empty. Her parents were never home because they were either lost in their work or with her grandfather, or doing anything besides walking through their own front door. What happens when your own home suddenly becomes, well, not a home? When the one place you're supposed to feel safe inside, suddenly feels like this empty shell full of things that you just can't seem to deal with. It's almost like suddenly you become homesick for somewhere else, somewhere that you've never been before, you know, somewhere that you'll find the happiness again.

Does this exist?

It's just like Peter Pan isn't, everyone wants to find their never never land, everyone wants to find that place, just beyond the second star to the right and on till morning. At least then, if we all found that place, waking up each morning, would be a hell of lot easier.

Quinn had a dream about Rachel last night. She dreamt it was winter, and they'd disappeared into the mountains. As it snowed Quinn watched each snowflake, so brisk, so blissful, knowing exactly how it needs to be and refusing to be anyone's puppet. Maybe that's how Quinn needed to be, something so free she couldn't be touched or taken down.

The Mack, Sheila and Ronnie made up the Skanks and Quinn knew they would be waiting for her, she would just keep her head down, pass where the Cheerio's were practicing and everything would be fine. It was almost like she had completely turned her back on everything she said she was going to do in Greece. Like it had all been forgotten. She needed her south side of anywhere, it's just right now there was a wall up, and she just didn't know how to knock it down.

"Quinn!"

And here she was thinking this entire time she had been superhuman. She had been able to hide under this imaginary cloak of invisibility and no one would notice her. But that's just it, she really was the leaf on the windshield, no one could miss her.

Quinn stopped walking to see Santana and Brittany pressed up against the fence separating the football field from the rest of the school. She was only metres from safety of the shadowed bleachers, and yet her two best friends somehow stood in the way.

Santana looked her up and down, almost wanting to shake her head. Kurt had basically sobbed how bad this was, but rock n roll Quinn? This was new.

"Quinn look, this is our senior year and frankly being on the cheerios isn't the same without you,"

Brittany pressed her nose in between the wire, she reminded Quinn of a puppy trying to get passed the backyard fence.

"Come on sweetheart, this is for us we can win two national champions ships together!"

"You guys are suckers for going back to coach Sylvester," Quinn replied; glaring at the woman in the distance, still the same fucking tracksuit.

Santana sighed impatiently, "Don't be stupid Quinn, we joined the cheerios together, we joined Glee Club together, we all started tolerating Rachel together, maybe you way more than us," she smiled playfully, "It's us! We're like besties for life,"

Brittany nodded, "Yeah come on Quinn! We use to be like the three musketeers. Now Santana and I are like Almond Joy and you're like a jolly rancher that fell in the ashtray,"

"You don't understand the pressure I'm under, I'm not interested in that stupid polyester uniform, when my grandfather is dying,"

Santana bit her lips slightly, watching as Brittany's shoulders slumped, "Listen Q, I've got a bar of soap and a bottle of peroxide with your name on it in my locker,"

Brittany seemed to straighten a little, nodding and smiling excitedly, "Come on Quinn you can't break up the unholy trinity!"

It's true what they say, that when people are talking about you, you feel the heat from the air around you cling to your cheeks, almost like the temperature in Ohio is all because of you. There's no need for bionic hearing either, because sure enough they're whispering about you. The cheerio's had all spotted Quinn from across the football team, and one by one they had begun to point. It only made Quinn retreat back into her shell.

"You know sometimes people just grow apart," she responded, redirecting her gaze back to Brittany and Santana.

Brittany's face was immediately alarmed, "I told you, I think something has possessed her. San its like paranormal activity, we'll be starring in the musical,"

"No its Quinn's gone stupid activity," Santana replied slapping the fence, and Quinn felt herself flinch.

"I haven't got time for this," Quinn replied, and she turned her back on them, even if part of her told, she was insane for doing so.

**. . .**

Quinn read somewhere once, that humans are, if anything creatures of habit. We are all drawn into this familiarity of what we've always known. We are enchanted by the comfort of the similar. What happens though when this familiarly becomes unsafe? When the fear strikes out, when one day you wake up and this fear knows where you live?

In between break, Quinn had overheard Coach Sylvester ranting to little Becky, that Mr Schuester was planning new recruits for Glee club. Hearing this hadn't surprised Quinn, especially after nationals last year, when Finn had attempted to face rape Rachel in front of the entire audience. In Mr Schuester's pursuit to recreate the clubs inspiration and creativity he had randomly placed seven purple pianos around the school and told each of his students to perform a number whenever they had seen one.

Michael Jones was once quoted for stating that when he honored the piano's vitality and complexity, he couldn't tell whether he was playing the piano or whether the piano was playing him. That's a lot like what music does to you, isn't it.

Music is something that evokes certain feelings, there's no other way to express how music makes people feel, because at the end the day, where words fail, music speaks.

"Are you thinking about joining glee club?"

Quinn flinched pulling her hand away from the piano as though it had spat at her.

Standing just beside the bubbler, with a mop of messy golden hair, light skin and the widest mouth she'd ever scene, was someone she didn't recognize.

"Because if you are you should know that we were all involved in a really messy food fight in the cafeteria…"

"Yeah I saw that," Quinn replied, glaring him up and down, he was already wearing a football jersey. Typical isn't it. You're new, and you want to go straight to the top of the food chain.

"Don't let that deter you though, the number was really good don't you think,"

Of course it was good, it was sung by Rachel, Santana and Brittany.

"Whatever you say," Quinn replied, turning from him.

"I'm Sam," he said running after her, "Sam Evans…"

"I don't care," Quinn responded.

He seemed a little stumped as to what to say.

"You don't want to get mixed up in that rookie,"

Now there was a voice she remembered.

Dave Karofsky had just walked from the principal's office.

"Didn't think you'd make it back to senior year," Quinn said, watching as he nodded at Sam.

"Guess you didn't," he replied, shaking his head, "What are you doing Quinn?"

"Am I missing something?" Sam asked frowning.

"Quinn Fabray," Karofsky said in one of those voiceover tones, "Mckinley's former Queen B, pregnant at sixteen, lost the baby, turned gay, spent summer in Greece and now apparently, wants to be a punk…"

Sam's mouth suddenly looked like a killer whale.

"Fuck you…" Quinn responded, "Can I introduce the real you now?"

Karofsky laughed, "Why bother Quinn, I just signed my transfer papers, I'm done with McKinley…"

Quinn was a little stumped, "Why couldn't find a boy…." She trailed off, knowing that no matter who she was right now, she wasn't that cruel anymore, "band…" she said instead.

Karofsky saw her change of heart.

"Yep," he smiled slightly, "Found one interstate, I'll be joining the New Directions," he winked.

Sam nodded, as though it was a personal joke he was unaware of.

"Hey man," he said to Sam, "She had blonde hair, loves John Steinbeck, and knows a thing or two about the stars, when she comes back, tell her to give me a call? Just so I know she made it…"

Sam looked a little dumbfounded, as Karofsky just laughed at him and turned away.

"Steinbeck hey," Sam asked, "Cool,"

"She's not here anymore," Quinn replied, "And I have better things to do…"

"But I thought we could be friends?"

Quinn laughed, "Trust me, you don't want to be friends with me…"

**. . .**

The bleachers weren't all that bad. Sure they smelt of football uniforms and the ground was mostly always damp, Quinn wasn't sure if it was because the sprinklers were always left on, or the football guys urinated back here. Either way, it was virtually a den, and she could just do and say whatever the hell she wanted.

"You don't want to be in that pathetic club Quinn, wasn't it not long ago you were Queen B?"

Quinn flicked the bud to the ground, feeling the tar run down the back of her throat and wanting to vomit.

This was supposed to calm her wasn't it? Then why did it feel like her insides were literally on fire?

Actually she'd been in Glee Club since she was a sophomore, she could still remember the day, Santana, she and Brittany had stood at the door watching. Something in her had changed that day, and Quinn was trying desperately to remember those feelings again.

"Your Pops still working?" Mackenzie asked, pulling out a nail file.

Quinn felt her insides catch on fire again, "He's fine," she said, when in reality she had absolutely no idea how he was, short of staying away, Quinn didn't even know what she was doing with herself right now.

"Must suck to like flunk out of your mind like that," Mackenzie pressed, "I mean he's probably going to forget how to piss,"

Quinn suddenly wanted to kill her.

Before she could even contemplate doing that suddenly she could taste it filtering through the air. This sweet taste of autumn, this smell of warmness and suddenly her heart was racing a million miles per hour. When you're in love with someone, even if for some reason you may have lost your way, everything about him or her becomes your medicine. You grow so accustomed to how they smell, that eventually you can smell it on your own clothes, as though the entire time you've been holding them, their smell has stitched its way into your seams. Which is why, even from a short distance away, Quinn knew Rachel had found her hiding spot. The smell of Rachel right now was driving Quinn insane; it was so strong it literally wiped out all the smell of smoke from the cigarette she was holding.

"Hi," Rachel said tentatively, looking nervously at Mackenzie, "Hello… skanks…"

"Girlfriend stinks of soap Quinn…" Ronnie remarked.

Quinn looked at Rachel, in the small white dress she had bought in Greece, the same one she worn the night they had made love at the wharf, and now she'd just donned it with a black cardigan and her familiar red satchel bag. She looked adorable.

"I didn't mean what I said before, about you being a stranger, because you're not, I mean maybe when you cutoff all your hair, I thought it would have solved all your problems, and maybe when you were hanging out with Jeremy I should have stopped you…"

"Rachel, I'm not coming back to Glee club,"

Rachel stepped forward, "We need you," she pleaded, "Have you seen all those purple piano's around school? Well I know the tribute to the Gos Gos sort of ended in a food fight… but don't you remember that night in Greece when we…"

"I prefer the bangles," Ronnie chimed, smirking as Rachel tensed.

"Okay..."

"Rachel, I can't…"

"Yes you can," she replied, "We need your tremulous alto and you Glenda Carlisle glamour…the glamour I'm in love with…"

"I'll give you ten bucks if you let me beat her up Quinn,"

Quinn immediately felt herself step in between Mackenzie and Rachel, as though she had subconsciously aimed to protect her.

"I hate that you're hurting Quinn, but Glee club is a family, this is our year to get it right… no matter what's happening..."

"Can the song bird stop singing a chart ruiner?" Sheila yelled from the back.

Rachel bit her lip ignoring her, "You're still my girlfriend Quinn, and relationships are hard work, which is why I'm waiting and being patient,"

"I can't believe you are dating that…" Ronnie snickered.

"Shut up," Quinn snapped and instantly it was like her old self had taken over for a moment.

Rachel wasn't sure how to react, because as quickly as Quinn had been back, she had disappeared as well.

"What do you want from me Rachel?"

"I want you," she whispered, "But not like this, you're abandoning everything because you're so scared that Arthur is abandoning you, he's so confused Quinn."

"No he's just not use to this side of me,"

"No one is, it's so sudden, and stupid, I don't even know what point you're trying to make,"

"To leave a mark, so that no one will ever forget me,"

Rachel shook her head, "How could you think anyone would ever forget you,"

"My grandfather will,"

"Baby please," Rachel whimpered.

"Listen Mary Poppins unless you're selling the good stuff you better skip down the goodbye brick road…" Mackenzie sneered.

Rachel took a step back slightly, "This is who you want to hang around?"

Quinn shrugged, "I'm sick of everyone abandoning me, my baby, my grandfather…"

"But I'm not," Rachel pleaded, "God Quinn can't you see I'm right here?"

Quinn could see she was right here, she was within arms reach, and all she wanted was to grab her and run away. But something was holding her back, it was like this leash, this invisible chain that was holding her to this new place, this unfamiliarity, it wanted her to stay, and Quinn had no idea how to untangle herself.

"Glee club needs you Quinn, Mr Schuester has absolutely no idea what went wrong, Kurt is a complete and utter mess, Santana acts as though she's mad at you, when really she just wants you back…"

"I'm so sick of putting everyone else's needs before my own, it's time I lived my life Rachel…"

"You were living your life, what about Greece, what about the South Side of Anywhere? You took me there, you made me believe in places that felt right…"

"Maybe the South side of anywhere doesn't exist anymore…" she murmured.

"How can you say that? I need that place, I need you, more than anything this year, I need you… my Mum is here Quinn, she's a teacher and everyday I have to walk past her classroom, wondering if I'm supposed to say hi…"

"So now everything's about Berry?" Sheila asked, stepping forward, "No one asked for your little feelings you parakeet…"

Rachel huffed annoyed; "This is between my girlfriend and myself thank you very much,"

Sheila raised her eyebrows, "Are you speaking down to me?"

Quinn ignored Ronnie and Mackenzie's snickers and stared at Rachel, "What's more important Rachel? My life or yours?"

"Mine," Rachel replied and Quinn just looked at her.

"There you have it Fabray, your girlfriend loves herself more than you, I told you Rachel Berry would never change," Mackenzie said, pounding the side of the bleachers.

"Mine," Rachel repeated, as her eye spilled a tear, "Because _you_ are my life,"

Quinn wanted to cry, and yet all she could do was stare at her.

"Look Glee club misses you, and they'll be happy to have you back, whenever you are ready, and that's the same for me too…"

"How precious," Ronnie scoffed.

"I miss you," Rachel said, her lips quivering slightly.

Quinn couldn't stop herself, "I miss you too," she whispered, and yet it was soft, Rachel barely even heard her.

Quinn watched as she turned from her slightly, before pausing and then looking back, "You want to know what being brave is Quinn?"

She looked at her, god she looked so fucking perfect in this light, what the hell was Quinn doing?

"Being scared but still doing it anyway,"

**. . .**

You know those family vacations you go on, the ones where it takes a solid fives hours to get anywhere, and you spend the whole time arguing with your sibling in the backseat, or trying to avoid life conversations with your parents. Usually there'll be pit stops on the way, because your parents are actually responsible and know the meaning behind stop, revive, survive. Depending on where you're headed, these pit stops are just small enclosed parks, or nature reserves, with a building block for restrooms, and a picnic bench to eat at. The best thing about them is that they're amongst a field of grass, with an open sky above you. Quinn would give anything right now to be in one of those open fields. Just to lie on her back and stare silently at the sky, because that's usually the only time, she ever feels as though the world is hers.

She'd do anything to have Greece back. She'd do anything to find the South Side of Anywhere again. She had so many reasons not ignore what her head was saying, and yet so many reasons as to why her heart may let her down. Einstein once said, that if your head told you one thing, but your heart told you another, then before you were to do anything, you had to decide first whether you had a better head, or a better heart. If only Quinn could resurrect Einstein.

After everything this week, here she was, her knees curled to her chest, tucked behind some lockers, just outside the choir rooms, listening to Mr Schuester wrap up his week of the Purple Piano Projects.

"Guys quiet down, please," Mr Schuester said, "Sugar, I thought I told you that audition didn't work out?"

Sugar glared at him, "I thought you were kidding!"

"Sugar, this is a closed class," Mr Schuester sighed.

"Obviously your ears are busted, because I worked that song like a hooker pole!"

"Oh please," Santana replied, "You're tone deaf!"

Sugar pouted, before standing from her chair and addressing the rest of the club, "Here's the deal. I'm awesome. And I want to be a big, big star. And when I saw you singing and dancing in the cafeteria, I thought, I am so much better than them!" she grabbed her backpack from the side of the room.

"It is totally your complete loss!" and with that she turned on her heel and stormed from the classroom, narrowly missing Quinn's outstretched leg on the way out.

"Santana," Mr Schuester said, "I was trying handle that discreetly,"

"Mr Schue!" Kurt reasoned, "I handed her a map of the school, she pointed to the _'you are here'_ signed and asked how the map knew that…"

Quinn half smirked.

"Guys my best interests lie in us doing better at nationals this year…"

"I was sure that our nationals trophy would grow over the summer," Brittany quipped.

"Well it didn't," Mr Schuester half smiled, "So this year, we have to aim for the big one… now someone talk to me, what happened with the purple piano's?"

"Such a disaster," Sam called, "I thought you said Glee Club was popular,"

Puck snorted, "Dude, my rep was killed three years ago… and I'm the best looking here…"

"Actually Noah," Rachel responded, "Samual has some finely chiseled abs,"

Noah went to retaliate.

"Stop," Mercedes said sighing, "Can we get back to subject on hand, the performances were all a disaster,"

"Yes, I heard about the food fight, and the fire…" Mr Schuester replied folding his arms.

"Mr Schuester I still smell of spaghetti, and the fact that piano was actually lit up like some bonfire… Principal Higgins wanted to impound someone," Mike whined.

"I understand public schools do things different," Blaine remarked, "But I don't know whether to transfer back to Dalton,"

God Quinn didn't even need to know what he looked like, to know that Blaine Anderson was definitely someone Kurt would want.

"Don't," Kurt replied suddenly, "It's fine, and the fire was put out,"

"No thanks to Puckerman," Artie reminded, "You should apply for the fire squad,"  
>"Yeah but generally milfs only call firemen in the summer season, I need something that's all year round," he replied.<p>

Quinn rolled her eyes behind the door.

"Does anyone know who lit the piano on fire?" Mr Schuester asked.

"It doesn't matter," Rachel said flatly, "All that matters is that we understand that these piano's won't be defeated,"

"Oh Christ Rachel I thought you left your melodramatic self in Greece," Mercedes moaned.

"Here me out," Rachel smiled and she bounded up from the chair, nodding at Brad.

He called towards the door, and Quinn literally had to squash herself as far back into the corner as possible, to allow some band kids to wheel in one of the damaged pianos.

They settled it in the centre of the room, and allowed Brad to sit down at the stool. He moved his fingers along the purple piano, and it omitted such a clear and precise sound, it was almost like it hadn't been injured at all.

Rachel bounded over to him, twirling slightly, in the way that always indicated she had something to express through song and then her voice filled the air.

_You cant stop an avalanche __  
><em>

_As it races down the hill __  
><em>

_You can try to stop the seasons, girl__  
><em>

_But ya know you never will __  
><em>

_And you can try to stop my dancin' feet_

_But I just cannot stand still __  
><em>

_Cause the world keeps spinnin'__  
><em>

_Round and round __  
><em>

_And my heart's keeping time __  
><em>

_To the speed of sound __  
><em>

_I was lost til i heard the drums __  
><em>

_Then I found my way__  
><em>

_Cause you can't stop the beat…_

One by one, the New Directions bounded out of their chairs to join Rachel in the song, Mike and Brittany dancing around her feet.

_Ever since this old world began __  
><em>

_A woman found out if she shook it__  
><em>

_She could shake up a man __  
><em>

_And so I'm gonna shake and shimmy it __  
><em>

_The best that I can today_

_'Cause you cant stop _

_The motion of the ocean __  
><em>

_Or the sun in the sky __  
><em>

_You can wonder if you wanna __  
><em>

_But I never ask why_

_And if you try to hold me down _

_I'm gonna spit in your eye and say __  
><em>

_That you cant stop the beat!_

It's the worst feeling in the world, when you long to be apart of something and yet your feet just seem to stay glued to the floor beneath you. No one could stop the beat of the New Directions, but Quinn was wondering how long her actual heart could keep beating.

**. . .**

"Quinn, could you come into my office?"

Quinn was caught off guard as she filtered through the students on their way home.

"Do I have to? It's not school anymore…"

"It'll just take a minute," Emma said, nodding her head to the chair in front of her desk.

Quinn rolled her eyes, and walked into the room, dumping her folder and slumping in the chair.

Emma seemed to look at her a moment longer than was necessary.

"How's your grandfather?"

Quinn snorted, "The teachers gossip too now do they?"

"No your mother called, said she wanted to let us know in case you needed anything extra at school, I was very interested when she said how long you had been back from Greece Quinn…"

Quinn stilled slightly.

"I'm not entirely sure what you were doing in the week you skipped Quinn, but I took the liberty not to inform Principal Figgins, or your mother…"

"Thanks" Quinn muttered.

"You know it's illegal to forge a signature don't you?"

"God, tell my mother if it will spare me this lecture,"

Emma pouted softly, "What did you do that week Quinn? Because right now I'm thinking you joined a cult."

"I didn't do anything, I just met some people who introduced to a new way of seeing things…"

"The pink way?"

"I can't be bothered for this," Quinn said annoyed and she got up to leave.

"Quinn before you leave…"

Quinn turned from the doorway, and looked back at Ms Pillsbury. She sat so delicately in her desk chair, it reminded Quinn of a feather.

"Do you want to know what I learnt from high school?"

"No," Quinn responded flatly and then frowned as Ms Pillsbury simply smiled at her.

"I learnt that usually people forget what you say, usually people over time even forget what you did, but no one Quinn, no one forgets how you made them feel…"

Quinn's shoulders slumped slightly; even if her brain screamed at her to remain collected, remain in control, don't let anyone see that really she was just screaming for attention.

"This is all happening so fast Quinn, but losing yourself in the process isn't going to affect anyone more than it will effect yourself…"

"Look Ms Pillsbury, I get this is your career path, to help teenagers or whatever, but I don't want your words of wisdom,"

"Afraid they might be right?"

"No," Quinn shrugged, "You said it yourself didn't you? People forget what other people say,"

Emma nodded, scrunching her nose and tying her fingers together over her desk surface. She leant forward slightly, looking directly at Quinn.

"You got me Quinn. But here's what I think, I think exactly what I just said hit a nerve, made you feel a little… come back to me if you forget that how that felt…"

**. . .**

Quinn fumbled in her bag for the car keys, hoping to god one of the skanks hadn't stolen them again and taken the car for another joyride. If they crashed it, there was no way in hell she'd be able to pay the insurance. Making her way across the car park, she was silently thanking god that the majority of the students had already left.

"Man you take forever these days, what you need a drag even before you get home?"

Quinn lifted her head to the sky, cursing whatever was up there.

"Santana can we not do this,"

"No you know me," Santana responded, "I'm nice as pie when my girlfriend is near me because let's face it she's beautiful, she's innocent, and she's the only good that's left in this stinking world," Santana looked at Quinn, "You were one third of that good too, and now look at you,"

"Your girlfriend know you have attitude?" Quinn asked bluntly.

"Does yours?" Santana shot back, "We've been back what Quinn, three weeks? I don't even understand how this is happening,"

"I'm tired Santana, I don't want to have this argument right now,"

"I don't care what you want, you're going to stand here, and you're going to tell me what the hell is going on,"

"Don't tell me what to do," Quinn rounded and Santana glared at her.

"Well what do you want from me Q, look at you, getting your skank on, it's like someone turned you upside down and you turned bitch,"

Quinn felt the anger grow inside her, "I'm not some item you can label you know,"

"You virtually changed over night, do you have any idea what kind of a mess Rachel is, she has no idea where this is leading,"

"If it leads to great sex, she'll soon think it's hot,"

"Oh please Quinn," Santana responded, "A statement like that? The real Quinn would have never treated something so intimate like that…"

"As if I'm not speaking Santana anyway,"

Quinn saw the light leave Santana's eyes as she stared at her, "You know what, I'm done… be in this little…what ever the fuck it is, stay away from Glee Club, we don't need the trash,"

Just like, Quinn watched the same person who promised to be her family, walk away.

**. . .**

Things are so much easier when you're a little kid. You dream of being a scientist, you dream of being a fire fighter, a painter, an astronaut and then suddenly you get older and you start to have different wants and then suddenly it's like you're giving these dreams up one at a time. Maybe Quinn didn't want people standing outside the tunnel she was in, yelling at her to come towards the light. Maybe she just wanted someone to come and sit with her the darkness for a while you know. She had spent the last hour just sitting here, leant against her car. The teachers had all gone home, the detention kids had left, even the sun was sinking. But where else was she going to go, she felt like there was nowhere else she needed to be.

"Hey punk,"

She looked sideways as Puck slid down the side of her car next to her. He brought his knees to his chest, sighed slightly and then rubbed his hand across his Mohawk.

"Imagine we did it now Q, our kid would have a spikey pink Mohawk…"

Quinn continued to stare at the ash felt beneath them.

"If you, me and Rachel had a three some we would produce the next Travis Barker…"

"Puck, I don't want to talk to you,"

"Yeah," he said shrugging, "Never really stopped me before,"

"Why are you here?"

"Wanted to take some of those pianos and sell em to the pawn broker, make some extra cash, but the dumb thing wont fit on the truck and Hudsons too busy flunking homework to help,"

"Well looks like you've got nothing to do so leave me alone okay,"

"Yeah how about I just sit here then?"

Quinn looked at him, "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing…can't I have nothing from my friend?"

When she was in Greece, Quinn had spent some nights in Spyros' study, going through old Greek mythology books, reading different world articles, all because her mind was too alive to sleep. In the corner, he had this light up globe, and every time Quinn would be in the room, she would dim the lights and have this glowing globe next to her. Sometimes she would place her hand on its surface, and watch the continents illuminate her hand, and it always made her think about how small any of her problems could be compared to the rest of the world. Maybe that's what a real friend is you know, someone who knows that even if your problem is just a tiny matter compared to the world, if it affects you, well then its just as important.

Funny thing is, Quinn couldn't seem to find to words to express how much she was hurting inside. Communication is such an ironic thing. Words are really one of the first signs of growing. When we are tiny children, learning words and to communicate is the first signs of growing up; it's the first signs of becoming a functioning human being. And then we grow up, and suddenly finding the right words becomes the hardest thing to learn. Suddenly asking for what we really need becomes the hardest part of our lives.

Quinn continued to say nothing.

"Just one last thing before I don't speak again Q," Puck sighed.

Quinn didn't even bother looking up.

"If you hurt Rachel, I'll never speak to you again, you're half way there, so looks like I got nothing to say anyway,"

It's true what they say though isn't it. That far more people are lost than those that are found. It makes you wonder, why are there so many locks and so few keys? Where have all the keys gone, surely there's a way to find a way to unpick our locks.

Then again, maybe that's just it, maybe people have found the keys, and they just choose not to use them.

* * *

><p>I think I overused the <strong>. . . <strong>in this chapter huh ;) until next time... I await your thoughts!


	35. Chapter 34

Little Readers,

When you guys come out of hiding it always makes me smile. I'm like… Oh there you are :P

Enjoy... I had a lot of feelings in this chapter... sorry :/

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 34<strong>

Beginning of Senior Year

_You see unicorns and think imagination; I see unicorns and think reality_

* * *

><p>If you think about it, each second in which we live, is a new and unique moment that will never ever, be again. And what do we teach ourselves and those around us? We teach that two and two make four, that the four fathers founded America and that Paris is the city of lights and the capital of France. When is the time that we teach ourselves, what we are, and what we are capable of doing?<p>

Maybe there should be a rule. That at least once a day, you have to stop a passing stranger and tell them how unique they are. That if some days it feels like everyone is completely the same, on the inside, everyone's their own tornado. Swirling to a different type of storm, because that's just the way it was all intended. You might not become the next Beethoven, or the next Shakespeare or be as well known as Michelangelo, but somewhere along the lines, you're going to mean a whole lot more to another person.

We should stop more, stop and say to someone that they have the capacity for anything.

"Quinn, how many times do I have to tell you to stop leaving that damn nose ring disinfectant crap in the bathroom,"

Quinn glanced sideways at her mother, as she bustled into the kitchen with her briefcase.

"Where are you going?"

Judy looked up from the bills that had been placed on the counter, "Where does it look like Quinn? I have court this morning,"

"But granddad needs to go see the doctor for one of his check ups,"

Judy stared at her, "How did you know that?"

Quinn shrugged, "Read your diary last night,"

Judy bit her lip, "Going through my personal things now are you? For Christ sake, this new image Quinn, I can somewhat tolerate, but raiding through my things?"

"BECAUSE YOU NEVER TELL ME ANYTHING!"

"Oh and I suppose you win best child award do you?" Judy shot back.

Quinn stared at her, "What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

"It means this selfish out of control streak needs to end, you absolutely reek of smoke,"

Quinn wanted to laugh, "So suddenly I start experimenting and I'm the worst person in the world?"

"No you're the worst person in the world because you're hurting the people around you. For crying out loud those girls you've been hanging around with, what kind of a name is 'The Skanks?' you want to be associated with that?"

"You're not the perfect child either mother, granddad has a hospital check and you're choosing to bury yourself in work?"

Judy gritted your teeth, "For your information Quinn, I've taken my father to all his medical check ups…"

Quinn felt her insides roll over, how was she supposed to counter act this now?

"Your grandfather loves you, he thinks the absolute world of you, all this time you've been avoiding him Quinn, he thinks you've just been caught up in school work. Kurt even told him you dyed your hair pink because of a role in a school production,"

"Kurt's been speaking to him?"

Judy rolled her eyes, "Of course he has, god Quinn, Kurt looks up to your Pop, and there was a time he looked up to you too,"

"He can still…"

"You know what's so bizarre about this change Quinn? The part both your father and I just can't seem to understand? Is that we were all finally getting along. You and me you know, we weren't arguing as much, I'd finally worked out that Rachel was the one you wanted to be with, I thought things were good…"

"I just don't know what I'm doing…"

"Clearly," Judy retorted, "That poor girl probably thinks it's all her fault, I doubt she would like you very much right now…"

"You don't know what Rachel thinks…"

"Neither do you, so get your act together Quinn," Judy snapped, "Because to be frank, I don't like you very much right now either,"

Are you a mother?

Maybe not, maybe yes, but even if you aren't you'll never understand properly what its like to look into the face of your grown child and suddenly see the face of that same child, as though you had just given birth to them. Sometimes when you're parents look at you typing away on whatever social networking site you belong to, they can still remember those same fingers that would reach for theirs when crossing the road, they still remember those hands grasping at the strands of their own hair, trying to tug them that little bit closer. They look at you kicking a football across the field, playing for your school team and they still see those same legs, as they chased their run away three year old through the shopping mall.

You can scream at them, and you can yell, and you can tell them how much you sincerely hope that they will go away, but eventually you'll be sitting alone in your bedroom one night and you'll realize that everything your parents do for you, is because they just want you to have more of a chance at life, than they ever did. You catch up to your parents before they even know what's happening. One minute you're sneaking into their bedroom on Christmas morning because you've been waiting for Santa all week; and the next you're sleeping in, not wanting to be smothered in kisses by that one aunt. Have a little compassion for your parents, chances are, they weren't expecting to wake up in the morning, and their child now has their own opinions.

Quinn tossed the coffee mug in the sink, filled it with hot water, and then spread her arms against the bench, staring as the water sloshed around the rim, trying to calm itself. She really had been getting along with her mother, she had been finally understanding what it was like to have an adult conversation, to have the people who had raised her, look in her direction and ask her questions because they wanted her to be a part of the decision making. Now it just felt like she had taken ten steps back. Perhaps this was still the immaturity lying beneath the surface. She just needed that thing to beat it down again.

You know what's so intriguing about the human race? It's that if you take someone and you peel away the surface exterior, you swim through all that's between, when you reach the core, you find that we're all very similar. So how much alike was Quinn and her mother?

If Quinn laid any money on it, she'd probably be broke.

**. . .**

It's so crazy to think that you could ever hurt the person you love. What's even crazier is to realize that the person you hurt, loves you.

History will always repeat itself. It's been a long, never ending cycle, and its not changing anytime soon. Doors will always open, and doors will always be slammed in your face, but maybe that's the art of growing up. Working out which doors are going to stay open.

"Late for class?"

Quinn looked up from where she had been following her shadow along the pavement.

Mr Schuester had just stepped from his car.

"Class doesn't start for another 20 minutes,"

"I'm just joking Quinn, you use to smile at things like that,"

"Guess I just don't find them funny anymore,"

Mr Schuester sighed, 'There's a lot of things that you don't find funny anymore Quinn, it's almost like you've forgotten how to be happy,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Enjoy your day Schuester," she retorted.

"Quinn wait…" Mr Schuester called, "I just want to talk…"

"I don't have time," Quinn lied and she disappeared into the left wing building, and headed towards the junior girls bathrooms.

The first thing she smelt was smoke as she entered the girls bathroom, the first thing she saw however was Ronnie and Sheila holding a students head in the toilet bowl, while Mackenzie watched on from just outside the cubicle.

Mackenzie noticed Quinn walk in, "Took your time Fabray," she said.

"Yeah was dealing with my mother," she replied, glancing at the dried blood on her knuckles, Christ she hadn't hit them had she?

Mackenzie shrugged, "Haven't miss much, just telling Miss Motta, that if we don't get her lunch money, she'll be joining the sewer rats,"

"My Daddy will have you all expelled!"

Quinn heard the muffled voice from the cubicle, as it was slammed back into the water. It took her a moment to realize that this must be Sugar Motta, the transfer student.

"My Daddy gave your school all purple piano's!"

"Shut up Rich bitch!" Mackenzie yelled, "And give us your money!"

There's this ringing sound that you can ear in either very quiet areas, or in times of danger. It's like this buzz in your ear, a buzz that most people will say is this auditory illusion caused by the human condition of an inability to hear past certain frequency thresholds.

Perhaps this is in actual fact, very far from the truth. Perhaps this ringing you hear, is really something that no one can explain normally, so they chose to ignore it, blame it on science. If you're patient, you might be able to distinguish what these voices are. Voices whispering to each other, voices of the past, the present and the future, all whispering in secret codes never meant for our ears. Within good practice you might be able to distinguish the things they are saying. Yet usually no voice comes without a body, and if suddenly you start to notice them, suddenly they might just start to notice you.

So how would they react if they saw what was currently happening?

Quinn wondered if they would join in on the bullying, or whether they would try to stop it.

"Hello?" Mackenzie said, "I said who the fuck calls their kid Sugar, and you're ignoring me?"

Quinn cleared her throat, "Someone who's a diabetic?"

Mackenzie narrowed her eyes; "I swear to god you have voices in your head Quinn,"

Quinn looked at herself in the mirror, maybe these voices weren't in her head, maybe she was just the only one who had practiced long enough to hear them.

Suddenly the door was thrown open and a flash of a red jumpsuit could be seen moving to the cubicle. It ripped apart Sheila and Ronnie, and basically lifted Sugar out of the toilet bowl. Quinn watched as Coach Sylvester, pushed two halves of the skanks out of the way, grabbed a handful of paper towels and stuck them to Sugars face.

"Clean up candy cane, and get back to class,"

Sugar spat out the remaining of the toilet water in her mouth, which suddenly made Quinn feel violently ill and then looked at Quinn. For three split seconds, Quinn swore to god it was the same look Santana would give when she was plotting revenge.

"You will pay for this," she coughed, "I have asperges, I am not accountable for whatever I say or do to you…"

Quinn felt herself gulp a little, meanwhile Mackenzie just laughed. Sugar flipped her soaking wet hair and stalked from the bathroom.

Coach Sylvester glared at them all, "Skanks," she nodded, "I gotta talk to that lady alone," and she pointed at Quinn.

The girls rolled their eyes and walked in the same direction Sugar had, as she lit up another cigarette, Quinn heard Sheila mutter that they should chase Sugar.

"First of all," Sue said, reaching and whipping the cigarette from Quinn's lips, "Smoking kills,"

Quinn watched as she threw it into the bathroom sink, and turned the water over it, washing the nicotine away.

"Second, it really does make you look cooler," the way she said it was so sarcastic Quinn could see it drip from her mouth; she reached over and took the packet from her hands and pocketed it.

Quinn huffed, they were Mackenzie stash, "Sorry coach, but you have no power over me anymore,"

Quinn stared in the mirror, looked directly at herself and added, "Cause I've got nothing left to lose,"

Do you ever know that you're lying to yourself? You stare at yourself in the mirror and you look into your own eyes and you say, 'yes, I'm happy' even if it's so far from the truth? You're directly lying to yourself and yet you can't control it. Almost like your own self-conscious is trying to tell you that this is wrong, and the way you're acting is wrong, and yet still, you choose to stand in front of that mirror, and lie to yourself.

"Oh Q," Sue muttered, and it was the first time she'd heard someone say that in so long, "I look at you and I'm stunned, you've never looked worst…"

"Chat roulette doesn't think so," Quinn smirked.

Sue rolled her eyes, "That's the most pathetic thing I've heard all day,"

Quinn bit her lip. She'd been on there once, and she'd shut her laptop down after four seconds, again she was lying, but why for?

"You lost your child, in these very bathrooms actually, you changed your partner preference, your poor little Grandpop, you lost your rep and worst your high pony…"

Quinn could feel the anger as it wound its way through her stomach, crawling through the walls of her throat, ready to lash out in this verbal assault but something was holding her back, could it be that Coach was speaking the truth?

"You know who I blame?"

_Me_, Quinn thought.

"Glee club,"

Not the answer she was expecting.

"You know when you were in my grasp," she continued, "You were at the top of the pyramid but then you joined the Glee club and became lost… forced to sway in the background," she did this over the top dramatic sway that looked so much like a dying bird it made Quinn cringe, "Will Schuester never did appreciate the gentle tremble of your thin forgettable alto,"

"Thanks," Quinn spat sarcastically.

Coach's Sylvester's eyes seemed to light up when she saw the anger in her voice, "What if I were to offer you the chance to get revenge on the Glee club and you would become a star?"

But Quinn didn't actually want revenge on the Glee Club. She wanted revenge on Alzheimer's disease and the piece of crap fate that was doing this. She wanted revenge on everything BUT the Glee Club. She felt like this little lost lamb you know, with no one to guide her home, and here was this figurehead in her life, giving her a path to walk down.

Choose a path you don't want? Or have no path?

That's always the fucking question isn't it?

"My congressional campaign is producing a video…" she raised her arms in another stupid over dramatic effect, "A day in the life of a girl from whom the arts stole everything…"

Sue stared at her, "I think I found my girl…"

Quinn bit her lip, "I really can't be bothered Coach," she said.

"Oh Q, you're not bothered for much these days, at least be a little bothered to expose the truth?"

"You know absolutely nothing about me," Quinn sneered, "Just back off," She could feel them, those tears that she had managed to store away. They were surfacing and there wasn't a chance in hell she was going to break down in front of Coach Sylvester. She pushed past her and ran from the bathroom.

Consequently, she ran directly into Kurt and sent his books flying. Quinn could barely see, those tears had welled, and it felt like all the walls were crashing down.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, reaching for the binder and trying to pick up it from the floor.

"My word you look worst than Judy Dench when she played the Queen,"

Quinn couldn't even respond, she hadn't even seen that movie.

"QUINN!" Sue was calling, "Quinn it's the arts, come back!"

"Quickly," Kurt sighed, picking her up off the ground and dragging her down the corridor.

"You know, you really have to pick whose side you're on," he said, as they spilled into the open courtyard, "My Dads fighting her on congress too… not that you would know, but we want to stop Sue Sylvester once and for all,"

The sun had pretty much blinded her; Quinn realized she must have dropped those sunglasses she had been wearing as though they were a religion; back in the corridor. Jesus they were Mackenzie's, she was going to kill her.

"You still see Pop," Quinn blurted out without even bothering to answer his statement.

Kurt stood, hand on one hip, arm holding his books, glaring at her, "Well one of us has to," he replied.

Quinn looked at him, "Kurt I am just trying to figure everything out okay,"

"I don't particularly care what you're trying to do Quinn, I swear if I have to spend one more night on the phone with Rachel as she cries herself to sleep, or one more night with Santana screaming through skype, I might actually jump off some type of bridge," he folded his arms, "Well not literally, but you don't even care how this affects anyone else, I need to get into NYADA, and all this…" he did a little circle motion with his hand in front of Quinn, "Is distracting me,"

Quinn handed him his math's book that she had picked up, "I think you and Rachel will get into NYADA,"

Kurt sighed a little, "It's very competitive Little B, like there's so much talent out there you know. We went on a little field trip a week ago, and witnessed a performance by this junior Harmony… I swear she's like this Tyrannosaurus Rex meets Celene Dion… it's terrifying."

Kurt and Quinn seemed to catch themselves for a moment, not realizing that it was almost like nothing had happened, that they had been talking and going on as normal this entire time. Quinn didn't want to let it go just yet, not before she got out what she needed to say.

"You're one of a kind Kurt, there's no one else like you…"

He stared at her a moment, "Your girlfriend said the same thing, you know I think her ambition does push ups in her sleep,"

Quinn laughed slightly, that was Rachel down to a tee.

"Either that or she sleep sings,"

Quinn half melted, "No she does that," she responded, "In Santorini I would wake up and she'd be singing we found love, it was all disjointed though,"

Kurt grinned, "Oh I can absolutely use this against her,"

They smiled at each other for a moment, Quinn feeling a little tentative because she didn't know what to say next.

"Fabray what the fuck? Why did you let _Head Lesbian In Charge_ take my smokes, you're paying for the next lot,"

"That's very creative of you Mack," Kurt said icily, "Using the word LIC in a pet name?"

Mackenzie seethed, "Shut up faggot,"

Quinn immediately stepped in front of him, "Take that back Mackenzie," she said staring at her.

Mackenzie laughed, "You're going to do this Fabray? You owe me smokes, move your fucking ass,"

"Little B," Kurt slightly pleaded.

"Go back to class Kurt," Quinn said softly, "You'll be safe there,"

"Oh for crying out loud," he answered annoyed.

"Just GO!" she replied.

* * *

><p>You know when someone ghost walks you? They walk as closely as possible to your heels, so it feels like you are literally being haunted? Coach Sylvester had spent the week doing just that, to the point Quinn would probably commit murder if she just didn't do what she asked. She spent three hours following her around the school, doing things that were supposed to mimic a hard ass, but in reality Mackenzie had just been teasing her the whole time; and Becky was inquiring why she looked like a flamingo.<p>

This is what being honest with yourself feels like, its raw and its fresh. There are three little words that aren't used as much as what they should be. Three little words that most people just use out of habit or expectation without realising just what they truly mean. But when you say them, and when you mean them, you might just find an incredible sense of comfort wash over you, and then you have to stop yourself because it feels so wondrous that you're quite scared you may become addicted.

These words people rarely use? These words that Quinn would say and not believe?

_I am me_.

She took a deep breath, pushed Coach Sylvester's hand out of her face trying to apply some orange foundation and walked into Mr Schuester's office.

"Mr Schue, I just came in here to give you a piece of my mind…"

Will looked up from where he had been grading papers no doubt, "What's going on here?" he asked looking from Becky with her audio headphones and Sue with an old digital camera, "Quinn its after school hours, you should be at home doing homework…"

Quinn pressed on with what Coach had told her to do, "I use to have everything," Christ that was so true, "I was the captain of the Cheerios, I was the prettiest and most popular girl in school… until I joined glee club and it all went to hell…"

"Dynamite," Coach Sylvester muttered, one eye staying open by the camera in her face.

"I just want you to know that I'm never coming back to Glee club," Quinn continued, "I hope you're happy,"

Quinn went to leave the room, until Mr Schuester called after her for the second time this week.

"Miss Fabray wait,"

Turning slightly, for the first time in a long time, Quinn met his eyes with hers.

Mr Schuester glared at her, "You know there's only one person in this world you care about and that's yourself…"

"You have know idea what I am going through, you don't know what happens at home…"

Mr Schuester shook his head, "And you think you're the only one with problems do you Quinn, but that's okay, claim that you're a train wreck… congratulations!"

"Screw you," she replied angrily.

Mr Schuester sighed, crossing his arms across his desk, "You're not a little girl anymore Quinn. How long do you plan on playing the victim card?"

"I am a victim," she answered, "Of Glee Club!" that was not in the script and that was something she didn't even mean.

"You know lately, you've done nothing but try to sabotage the same glee club that's always been there for you over and over again…" he glanced at Sue and shook his head, "And where's the thank you Quinn? The thank you for the support you received through the miscarriage, when you decided you wanted to be with Rachel, and now your grandfather?"

Quinn wanted to run.

"They are your friends Quinn, who care about you, who want you back. Rachel is my lead in this club, and seeing her as big of a mess as she is, is affecting the entire club,"

"Oh that's right, just live your failed broad way dreams through a school club,"

For the first time in her life, she saw a streak of anger flash through her teachers eyes, "GROW UP!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the oak of his desk, "Just grow up Quinn!"

Those words seem to leap over the table and hit her in the face, Coach Sylvester was encouraging more, and yet Quinn simply did what she should have done in the first place.

She walked away.

**. . .**

If you've ever walked around a school campus after hours, either because you've had detention, you've been draining a teacher for all those extra tips for higher marks, or you've been busy with extra curricular activities; you might liken it to a graveyard. Everything is so eerily silent.

Everything except your own steps, trying to find where you belong in this school.

"You're Quinn aren't you?"

Quinn looked up from where she had been trailing the sunlight disappearing out into the school courtyard, to see a woman with brunette hair flowing over her shoulders, purple business like dress, high heels and the splitting imagine of Rachel.

"You're Rachel's girlfriend?"

"Shelby," Quinn muttered, god she had completely forgotten what she looked like.

"You got a second Quinn? I promise I wont be long, I've got papers to mark anyway," she smiled slightly opening the door to the classroom she had been teaching in all day.

"Didn't think I'd ever see you teaching at McKinley, why would you want to give up Vocal Adrenaline?"

Shelby sighed slightly, sitting herself on the edge of the desk and watching as Quinn circled one of the student desks, not sure whether to sit down.

"One Al Motta demanded I take the position of another Vocalist here at McKinley, try to train his tone deaf daughter," Shelby smiled to herself, "Never repeat that,"

"I watched the Skanks shove Sugars head in a toilet bowl this morning and we took her money," Quinn replied staring at the ground.

"Yes she informed me of that actually, said she thought now she sounded like Dory from Finding Nemo, although I don't think she's aware Dory couldn't sing either…"

Quinn looked at her, "Why are you really here? To make amends with Rachel? Because…"

"It doesn't really matter about me Quinn, I'm not the one with pink hair, tell me, are you okay? What's going on with you?"

"Why would you care what's going on with me? You have no idea who I am…"

"Well actually," she sighed, "Rachel talks about you so often I don't know whether to hate you or like you…"

"Rachel talks to you?"

"We're working on being friends actually, considering Rachel was raised by her fathers,"

"You gave her up," Quinn seethed, "You gave her up at the drop of a hat!"

"I was around the same age you fell pregnant Quinn, I was scared and I was lost, and at the time, I would gladly have taken a miscarriage…"

Quinn stared at her, she felt her stomach leave her body and spill out onto the floor.

"Until I actually held Rachel, held that tiny piece of life in my arms and realized that I would be giving it to two people who would cherish her with absolutely everything they ever had…"

How was this the same? Quinn didn't have a choice, never got the chance to hold that child.

"You know to a certain point they trust you with that same life you know… so what are you doing?"

"I don't know," Quinn responded and she realized that she'd just spilt the truth in front of a complete stranger.

"Don't you want those feelings back Quinn?" Shelby quizzed, "Don't you want to be in love again?"

Quinn looked at her, "Those feelings never left,"

"So what are you doing then Quinn? Why are you acting like this? Lashing out at all your friends?" Shelby responded, "God the way Rachel speaks about you, the way she describes those letters in the beginning, the way she describes your first real conversation, finding out that it was you, and then hearing your real voice…"

"I don't understand," Quinn responded softly, Rachel had known what her voice sounded like from the beginning.

"Your real voice Quinn, the voice that's been inside you this entire time,"

Maybe that's what life is about, you wait for that person who you could listen to for hours. That person who is going to have a real conversation with you, make you laugh, make you feel a little lost when you hang up the phone. Some people settle, they nod and say yes to being with someone because they feel lonely. Everyone just wants someone, but don't settle for a someone that isn't going to make your heart beat. Don't settle for someone who doesn't make you smile when you hear his or her voice, don't settle for someone that you can't go a day without thinking about.

Wait for them. They're coming.

Quinn had hers. She had hers right here and she was ruining everything.

"Can I tell you something Quinn, even if you don't want to here it?" Shelby asked, "The first step to becoming an adult, is to stop punishing yourself for things you did when you were a child,"

Quinn glared at her.

"The miscarriage, your grandfather, none of these things are your fault Quinn, when are you going to start realising this?"

"Please don't lecture me, I've had more than enough today," she snapped, "You have no fucking idea who I am,"

"Well, you better start being someone who I'd want to date my daughter,"

"Your daughter?" Quinn seethed, " I thought we just established that she's the same daughter you gave away?"

Shelby stared at her.

"You think you can just show up in Rachel's life after seventeen years or so and claim to be here for her? Claim to be helping her with her lost girlfriend,"

"Crazy girlfriend," Shelby shrugged.

Quinn bit her lip, "You know nothing about us,"

"And you do at the moment Quinn? Do you have any idea how Rachel is feeling, her thoughts on college, how her school work is going, how Glee Club is?"

Quinn wanted to launch at her, just tackle her or something, just belt out her anger because she was so fed up with everything. But then she noticed it, sitting on Shelby's desk. The same locket Quinn had bought for Rachel when they had been together a year.

"What is that?" she demanded.

Shelby glanced at the locket on her desk, "Rachel asked me to fix it, she said she had tried for so long to get it open so she could place a picture inside…"

"A picture of what?" Quinn asked.

Shelby bit her lip, before searching through the papers on her desk to find what Quinn had asked for. She handed her the small cut out photo and Quinn's eyes lay firmly fixated to it for more moments than she could count. A photo, taken just after they'd told Quinn's parents that they were together.

"_I can love you in front of the world now,"_ Rachel had whispered.

"_I love you more than the world,"_ Quinn had responded.

"You're the sky and she's the comet," Shelby said softly, "Somewhere along the lines you collided and now you've got to make a decision Quinn, you want to keep her in the sky? Or you want to let her fall?"

Quinn felt her leave the room, but she was too lost in the photo, they were so happy, they were so in love. There was nothing she could do, Quinn just cried.

* * *

><p>You know what, sometimes you don't need reasons to dramatically change. Sometimes it can be for no reason at all, the point being, is that you've just lost yourself. Why do you need to explain to anyone why one day you suddenly decided to wake up and change the way you dress? Or the colour of your hair, or put a few piercings here and there, or decide you're going to speak in third person for a week. It's something that you're dealing with in yourself; it's something that might have happened really quickly, or something that's been a long time coming. Regardless you don't need to explain yourself, all that matters, is that you find your way home again.<p>

"Did you know you're a unicorn?"

Quinn looked up from where she had been lying on the bleachers. The skanks were nowhere, and she was glad, because she couldn't deal with them right now. Brittany was standing above her; this huge photo shopped poster of Kurt and a unicorn.

"I'm a what Britts?"

"A unicorn," she smiled, "We're all unicorns,"

Quinn was confused, "Won't you get in trouble for speaking to me?"

Brittany shrugged, "I still love you Quinn, and you're still a Musketeer," and she smiled softly, "Just don't tell Santana that because she'll get mad, she's just really proud,"

"Britt I just…"

"You don't have to explain to me," she replied, "It's probably too confusing and I won't understand anyway, but you should accept you're inner unicorn Quinn, because unicorns are awesome,"

Quinn smirked softly.

"And also Quinn unicorns don't have pink manes, well not the real ones… sometimes they can be rainbow… but I think that's only when they marry leprechauns…"

"Can I ask why Kurt is on that poster?"

"He's running for Student president," she smiled, "Glee club is all helping him, we don't want the jock club winning, because otherwise they will probably say no songs in the hallways… which means I won't be able to dance, which means Julliard scouts won't see me,"

Quinn looked at her, "Julliard scouts?"

"Yeah," Brittany smiled, "They come from time to time, peek in at Glee Club and stuff… I think they really like Santana… and one said I was a good dancer… but I still thought the capital of Ohio was O…. so I think I have to work on that…"

Quinn sighed, "I was meant to help you this year wasn't I,"

Brittany sucked on her lips a little, "Yeah no one understands history and English like you do Quinn, Santana just throws the books across the room and makes out with me instead… not that I mind or anything… but if I don't go to Julliard… I will have to make out with Lord Tubbington…"

Quinn cringed, but even so she felt more horrible than that what she already did.

"Out of all the kids in this school Quinn, I think you are the biggest unicorn,"

Quinn smirked, "You do, do you?"

"Well a unicorn is someone who always finds their way back home, someone whose not afraid to be who they are, I know you'll come back Q," Brittany smiled, "You always do,"

**. . .**

Here's thing, when your in high school, days seem like weeks, months seem like years, and well, an entire term, that just feels like forever. It's because when you're that young, surrounded by people wanting to experiment with similar types of moments, it feels like your whole lifetime is centered around high school. So if someone in your grade, or even someone whom you've never had any direct contact with, suddenly decides to change every aspect of themselves in the space of five minutes without any warning, it shouldn't be considered weird, and it definitely shouldn't be considered unrealistic, or a disappointment, because to this person, maybe this change feels as though its been boiling for a decade.

Quinn waited patiently by the steps of the school, knowing that on Wednesdays Rachel usually spent half an hour after school hours quizzing Ms Pillsbury on how to ensure she would get into NYADA.

Sure enough she saw her emerging from the school entrance, with her binder book and backpack.

"Smalls,"

Rachel reacted as though that name was like someone driving a wedge through her soul.

"Quinn," she stammered, "Jesus Quinn, what are you doing?"

"I need your keys," she replied, reaching in towards Rachel's pockets and snatching them.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I want to talk to you,"

"Well maybe you should have done that three weeks ago Quinn!"

Quinn stalked over to Rachel's car and pulled open the door, indicating for Rachel to get inside.

"What are you doing?" Rachel demanded.

"Get in the car Rach?"

"You're stealing my car now?"

"Get in the car!" Quinn repeated.

Rachel grumbled as she piled in next to her, "I swear if you so much as put a scratch on Daddy's…"

"As if I don't drive this all the time," Quinn responded, she had so much energy right now, she couldn't believe where it was all coming from.

"Used to," Rachel muttered as Quinn pulled out of the parking lot and headed around the corner.

"You are acting insane," Rachel responded.

"I saw the locket, Shelby cornered me,"

"She what?" Rachel responded.

"I need you to understand where I'm coming from, I need you to understand why I've been acting like this…"

"Quinn you don't even know yourself…"

"But I know us," she answered, turning the corner too quickly.

"Quinn slow down," Rachel said, "And no you don't know us, because if knew us, you would never have left me…"

Quinn looked sideways at her, "I want to come home Rachel,"

Rachel seemed unconvinced and then suddenly, "QUINN!"

It all happened so quickly; the ball flew into the windscreen as though it had been a bird. Quinn swerved to miss the oncoming car and slammed into a set of garbage cans. She heard crunching, and then the airbags inflated, and Rachel was lost amongst them.

There was no time to process what had happened, because before Quinn could speak, the door had been flung open and Puck was dragging Rachel out.

"You've fucking lost it," he yelled at Quinn.

"Rachel," she stammered.

"You know its lucky I stalk Shelby, and saw sense to follow you… you think you're fucking Vin Diesel or something yeah?"

"Smalls," Quinn said, releasing her door and stumbling onto the ground, "Rachel please…"

"Stay away from her," Puck growled bundling Rachel who seemed so winded and taking her back to his car.

You know when there's nothing else left to do? What do you normally do? Nothing? Anything? Everything?

Well, Quinn ran.

**. . .**

Like all the moments in her life, the ones where she felt so lost, so guilty and so out of place, she always ended up at the one place she felt solitude.

At Pops.

"There's my granddaughter," Arthur smiled from the porch, "Haven't been around for a while,"

Quinn trailed her way up the steps, before collapsing into her grandfather's arms in a huge overdrawn and over needed sobbing mess.

"Sweetheart," Arthur soothed, "It's okay. We'll get the blonde back… it looks much better as well,"

Quinn couldn't even answer him she was crying so hard, and the tears were stinging, they were stinging because every inch of her body ached with tension, with guilt and with all the feelings that you just don't want to feel.

"I've ruined everything,"

Arthur stroked her hair, as Quinn cried into his shoulder, "That's impossible, I think you can fix your self, you found your way back here didn't you?"

Quinn sat up slightly to look at him, "No Pop, I did something really bad,"

Arthur frowned a little, "As bad as that hole in your nose?"

"I nearly killed Rachel,"

Arthur sat up right, "Miss Berry?"

Oh thank god today was a good day, and she didn't have to explain she was dating a girl all over again.

"Yes, I hurt her,"

"Oh Quinnie," he smiled slightly, "Couples fight you know,"

Quinn shook her head, "I was driving too fast and there was this ball… and we…"

Suddenly Arthur looked alarmed, "Quinnie what did you do?"

"We sort of crashed, but the airbags,…she's so small… and Puck…"

"Oh Quinnie are you hurt?"

"Only in my heart," she whimpered.

Arthur sighed, "Well I'm sure Mr Puckerman knows a thing or two about car accidents, the ruddy hoon with that old boyfriend of yours… driving around late at night here…"

"They look after Rachel more than what I do lately," she whispered.

"Quinnie," Arthur said after a moment, rubbing his chin, "Kurtis popped in the other day, and well, the other week I thought he was the mail boy,"

Quinn sighed, "It's okay granddad, Kurt will keep coming over even if you threaten to call the cops because you think he's some dancing canary trying to steal from you…"

Arthur snorted with laughter, "Was that Quinn being funny?"

She smirked slightly.

"No he mentioned something I found a little interesting, about how my granddaughter went and got a tattoo…"

Quinn turned white, "Pop, I don't even know what…"

"What did you get?"

Quinn stared at her grandfather, his eyes were so bright it was almost as if he was beside himself with excitement.

"Quinnie I've always wanted one… but I never did… show me yours!"

Quinn laughed, he was here, this was her Pop, for the first time in so long he was actually here with her.

She turned a little, and lifted her shirt to expose the lower half of her back, after a while her grandfather hummed slightly.

"Two stars Quinn? Linked?"

Quinn cleared her throat, "One is me and one is Rachel, because she's the only star that manages to find me when I'm lost in the sky…"

Arthur smiled broadly, "Fantastic, see, you go about changing your whole image Quinn and yet you still seem to retain the things that mean the most to you…"

Quinn nodded, hanging her head for a moment.

"That's a lot like memory Quinn, suddenly memories start to change, and images become a little fuzzy, but the things that mean the most to us have a funny way staying clear,"

"Will I always stay clear to you Pop?"

"As clear as day Quinnie, I told you this already…"

"But what if…"

"Come now, I can't believe that the whole reason for this big change was because of me, and if it was well, you're making me feel more guilty than I would like to..."

"I just wanted you to remember me,"

"And…?"

Quinn sighed, "I was so sick of being that girl who had the miscarriage you know. Sure everyone got passed it, but when Hugh was born it made me think of all the things I've accomplished… not much,"

Arthur looked a little taken aback, "That pink die went into your brain cells didn't it Quinnie?"

"Grandad I wanted to be someone else! I wanted to be someone dangerous, someone that people wouldn't look at and be like, there's that sad girl who lost a baby, and now loves girls, and now loves one girl in particular…"

"Quinn Fabray," Arthur said sternly, "How old are you?"

"Eighteen in a month,"

"Precisely, so at present you are seventeen years of age?"

Quinn looked at him, and nodded frowning, not understanding his point.

"You think seventeen year olds conquer the world do you?"

Quinn sighed, "Pop… I just…"

"No Quinn, when I was eighteen I'd been to war, I'd seen my closest friends being ripped to shreds in front of me, and I'd met the love of my life, but never, never in my wildest dreams did I ever believe that I had seen all there was that life had to offer,"

Quinn toyed with her hem lining.

"You young people these days, you just rush, you want to accomplish everything and anything in the space of five minutes and then when you don't, you think you're failures…"

"But that's because…"

"No Quinnie, you are a senior, finishing high school, and that is what you should be, not this person that feels she owes something to the world, not this person that feels as though she needs to change everything she stands for just because she's trying to figure out who she is…" Arthur sighed a little, shifting in the chair, "You're so young Quinnie, you have a life time ahead of you, and in ten or 30 or 50 years, you're going to have more moments than you can possibly imagine, why would you want to try and rush those?"

"To be someone Granddad, I just want to be someone…"

"You ARE someone!" he said shaking her a little, "You are Quinn Fabray, you're my granddaughter, your brave and intelligent and not this…. What do you kids call it… punk ass?"

Quinn laughed.

"You have a beautiful girlfriend, who sings _Rain on my Parad_e like a goddess and who absolutely idolizes you Quinnie, why would you want to trade that to be someone she's afraid of?"

Perhaps that's how humans reinvent themselves you know. One day you blink and suddenly the person you were the other day, might not necessarily be the person you're going to be tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Today was a little better. Quinn had woken up at 7am, gone for a run, gone to a doctors appointment with her mother and Pop and then walked to school. Sure she could have driven, but walking felt so much better. And now she was just about to confront someone, that she owed an apology to, the only problem, was she didn't know just what words would do that.<p>

Santana was laughing at Brittany as she rambled about this big number she wanted to plan for the school assembly, staring at her as though she was the only person in the bathroom. They weren't alone though; Sugar was swaying in the sunlight. She was so odd; Quinn didn't know what to do with her.

Quinn cleared her throat, causing Santana to turn around. Brittany's eyes had immediately brightened. Quinn wished she could say the same for Santana.

"I'm sorry are we interrupting your morning drag?" she replied.

"I knew you were a drag Queen!" Sugar gasped, to which Santana rolled her eyes.

Quinn held up the bottle of hair dye she had bought at the supermarket before school, "Wash it out?" she asked softly, pointing to her head.

Santana stared at the bottle of hair dye in Quinn's hand.

"Oh may I make you drink it?" Sugar asked.

"Be quiet mini me…" Santana responded.

"Mini me?" Quinn asked, staring at her.

"Oh you know, new protégé… she does whatever I want,"

Sugar beamed, "Yesterday I attacked Jewfro with tomato sauce,"

Quinn sighed, "I'll help you take care of the kid?"

Sugar opened her mouth to protest but Brittany silence her, wrapping her arms around her shoulder, "Shhh little kitty… I'll give you your saucepan and milk later…"

"Britt that's not a ca…."

"She's half Burmese, half Japanese fighting cat," Santana interrupted raising her eyebrows and Quinn nodded.

"Blonde's have more fun," Santana shrugged, "And by that I mean Britts never lets me down…"

Quinn nodded, taking a light step forward, "You wont drown me will you,"

Santana smirked, "I thought about it," she grinned.

She took the bottle from Quinn's hand, "But I do need some help… I can't explain the difference between salt and pepper to one person let alone two…"

Quinn exhaled slightly, maybe this bathroom had become the one place in the school, where she had lost and won.

**. . .**

Later in the day, Quinn found a letter sitting on her car dashboard, even from a mile away she would always recognize that same adorable hand writing. Trying to fight away whatever emotion she hadn't already compressed, Quinn opened the envelope and read her girlfriend's words.

_When you love someone Fives, you don't try to stop them from taking care of you. I love taking care of you, and I love you taking care of me. But The South side of Anywhere isn't here anymore, it's almost like someone has come and put this huge blanket over it, and now its invisible to us. I want to meet you there, but I don't know if you really will be waiting. Maybe we should try and take things slow again…just be friends? Maybe we should do what we did in the beginning. Write back Quinn, I want you to try and find me again. _

God, was she too late to start over?

Maybe it really was about finding what they had in those letters again; maybe it's about speaking words through song lyrics. Have you ever done that? When you can't find your own words you use lyrics or music to guide you. Sometimes music on a page makes more sense than words do, but then again, isn't everything just a certain type of language?

Perhaps we look up towards the sky and we pick a star that we think is blinking at us. We go for days thinking about it, nights wanting to hear its voice, and dozens of moments wanting to just run your hand over it; to only stop one day and think what if this star isn't shining for me? What if this star is shining for someone else? That's just it though isn't it; you don't want to pick another star, not even when it's blatantly obvious there are millions to choose from. You trace their outlines, you scan your eyes over them and still the only star you want is the one you've already picked. You hope that it's shining for you, you hope that maybe it's thinking the same thing.

But then who makes the journey?

Do you fly to the star or does the star fall to you?

Quinn had her shining star. She'd had it shining for her for so long. She just needed to figure out how to make Rachel shine for her again.


	36. Chapter 35

Hey my Little Readers!

How's everyone going, how's 2012 treating you so far? I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays, and started the year with a BANG!

Considering this is one of my dominant ways of communicating with you (yes I'm speaking to you anons who I can't write directly back to because you don't have a link!) I wanted to address my current projects and update all of you on what's coming!

Firstly, I want to assure you that I will continue SSOA, even though I've been quite slack with the updates, it's only because my life is extremely chaotic right now. For those of you concerned with the idea that I am not finishing it, I want to directly put a stop to that, and remind you that I LOVE this story and it will be finished.

Secondly I've been working extremely hard on my soon to be released original work, which I am at the present time hoping to have available for you, by the end of February.

Finally, many people have suggested and requested that I set up a donation button and I have decided to give in. As many of you know I am aspiring to be an author, to eventually share my words with the rest of the world. I have a strong belief that today's current society doesn't take the time to think about things and that people need to be reintroduced to substance and depth, which is why its my dream to be a part of reintroducing that to the world we live in.

If you would like to support me in this quest you can do so through the donation button on my tumblr page itsonlyyforever . tumblr . com

Also I now have an email address specifically for you guys for any questions you have, or anything you want to say, or if you just want a chat.

It's so difficult for me to reply to all the messages on tumblr I receive, however this account has been set up specifically for me to talk to you!

So drop a line!

About six months ago, when FanFiction was first suggested to me, it was simply meant to be tool to cure writer's block. What it has turned into however, is something I never expected. For all of you who have been following this story, I would just like to take the time to thank you, and to also assure you that while I think Glee is terrific and it has been the base for my writing to be show cased, it is definitely and 100% not all that I can do.

The best way for you to stay up to date with all the projects I've got coming is to do either one of three things:

a) Follow me on** tumblr **itsonlyyforever . tumblr . com

b) Follow me on **twitter **(at) belikecourtney

c) Email me

thelittlereaders (at) hotmail . com

Or be adventurous and do **ALL THREE** haha!

For now I leave you with the latest installment, I assure you I am already working on Chapter 36 and I can't wait to hear from all of you.

As always, enjoy my little readers :)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 35<strong>

_For every card in a deck, I'd write the word I love you_

Senior Year

How do we really know if a person forgives us when we wrong them? It's a critical question isn't it, one that you can't stop thinking about. It becomes so existentially important to you that you seem to be intensely concerned with it. It's a similar feeling to believing whether a person truly loves you or not. Maybe there's no rule. Maybe you just have to believe that they do. Isn't it strange that people don't think about cause and effect, or how many hours it takes to make honey, or the sum of angles in a triangle is equal to 180 degrees, they instead spend their days wondering if anyone in the world could love them back, in the same way that they would love them.

When you've had someone in your life for so long, you start to develop this belief that they're always going to be there. Quinn stared at her mother sitting in her grandfather's armchair; we have this idea that our parents will live forever, until one day reality hits, and you realize they're just like everyone else; human.

Quinn couldn't imagine her life without her Pop, he wasn't just her grandfather, he was her friend, the person who helped her when she couldn't figure out any other answers.

"Did you get the last of his immediate things?"

Quinn watched as her father walked into the room.

"You can't sell this place," Quinn said softly, rising from where she had been leaning on the kitchen counter, "It doesn't feel right,"

"Quinnie," Russell sighed, "Your Pop's not well, and he needs to be in a place where he will get proper care,"

"I'll move in here then," she responded, "I'll take care of him,"

Judy sighed, "Darling most days you can barely take care of yourself,"

"Why do you always treat me like a child!" Quinn snapped.

Judy glared at her, "Darling you are one, you're not even eighteen!"

Quinn slumped against the wall, "This isn't supposed to happen, Pop is supposed to be in this house, this is _his_ house!"

The doctors said it would be a slow process, right up until the moment it counts, that dementia was similar to a light switch, one minute Pop was here and the next he was not. But his lucid days hadn't been as frequent, and he was understanding and remembering things. It had just been in the last week, when things had gone downhill, and her mother and father had organized for him to move into a nursing home.

"Sweetheart, we're trying our best," Russell sighed, "Please, we need your support on this,"

Quinn opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say anything, the front door had swung open and Kurt had stepped inside. He was carrying a box tucked under his arm.

Quinn stared at him, he looked completely exhausted, like he'd been up the whole night, "Kurt," she said.

"Snips gave me some of his old army medals, but I don't feel right taking them,"

Judy stood slowly, holding her hands out and indicating for Kurt to come towards her. Quinn watched him move in child like steps that reminded her of every time throughout school when he had needed to rise and give a presentation in front of the class, his steps were uneven, like he didn't want to be walking forwards.

Judy took the box and opened it, reaching inside and retrieving one of the medals, as she held it in front of her, it reflected the light from the open windows, sending small rays of light into the air around them.

"He was so proud of these," she smiled, "You know my Mum would always dig these out at family gatherings and Dad would act all embarrassed, I was the only one who knew he was secretly proud,"

Kurt's bottom lip started to quiver.

"He loved serving this country," she said quietly.

"They belong to your family," Kurt murmured.

Judy shook her head, "They belong to someone who is as brave as my father," she pushed the box back into Kurt's arms, "He loves you Kurt, he would never have trusted you with them if he didn't,"

Quinn moved slightly, pulling Kurt under her arm, "I love you," she whispered and instantly she saw the colour swim back into his face.

The sound of an engine plug and a vehicle coming to a stop sent their eyes to the window.

"Movers are here," Russell grunted and he turned, pushed open the door again, and disappeared down the porch to greet them.

"Fellas!" Quinn heard her father say.

"Mum where is all this stuff going?" she asked turning back to Judy.

Judy glanced around the room, "Well the blue marked boxes are going with your Pop, other things marked in red are what I'm taking and all the unmarked boxes are…" she paused, "Well I don't even have a clue what to do with them," she ran her fingers through her hair, "I've had to change all the insurance policy holders names, apply for third party authority over the bank accounts, and power of attorney for everything else,"

Quinn had seen her mother stressed before. If there was a really big case she was working on, it usually drained her dry. But this kind of stress was different, almost like she couldn't actually believe it was happening.

"Can I do anything?" Kurt asked and Quinn felt herself squeeze him tighter.  
>"No sweetheart," Just replied shaking her head, "Unless you can find a place for everything else to go,"<p>

Quinn watched as her mother slid passed them, to help Russell with the removalists outside. It was only now did she realize they had run over some of her grandfather's daises and her Dad was going ballistic.

"Does she mean all those items?"

Quinn trailed her eyes over the piles of unmarked objects Kurt was referring to. They were scattered around the lounge room, piled around shelves and sprawled into the kitchen.

They were all items that Quinn could remember. The old fishing rods, the old TV set Pop didn't want to get rid of, but her Dad had made him upgrade to digital, and the car racing set that Quinn and Frannie would play with when they had been younger.

"So many memories here," Kurt said, picking up a stuffed teddy bear and wiping the dust from its glass eyes, "I wonder where Snips got all this stuff from, he's bound to have a story for each one!"

Suddenly Quinn's eyes brightened, "You're a genius!" she smiled and Kurt frowned.

"Stories!" Quinn grinned, "Pop loves stories, there's a story for everything, and where better to send all these stories?"

Kurt's eyes twinkled then as well, and Quinn knew he understood.

"The Pawn shop," Kurt said and Quinn nodded.

But not before all the stories had been documented. She would make a photography album with captions of the stories her grandfather had to go along with these items.

"There's stories in everything," she smiled glancing at all the objects.

"I'll help you Little B," Kurt said starting to shift some of the boxes.

"I need you," Quinn responded suddenly and Kurt stopped sifting.

"Now more than ever,"

He shrugged, "I'm here aren't I?"

"Yes and I need you to know how beautiful you are for that, after everything I put you through,"

Kurt sighed, "Quinn there are some days when I'd like to be someone completely different, I'd like to walk out of my house and not have everyone know me, but it gets you no where. At the end of the day you always find your way back home, because that's where you'll always come from,"

**. . .**

Sometimes Quinn comes across things that remind her, that there are other people in this world, who have as much faith in the sky as what she does. The other night, half way between trying to complete her history paper, she came across an article written by a man called _Professor Brian Cox_. According to him every time any of us look across the vast span that we call space, we can only ever find the same 92 elements that we find on earth. He went onto say that humans are basically made of the same matter as the stars and the galaxies. At present Quinn had spent the last fifteen minutes listening to his speech on whether or not it was possible to make a star on earth. This was not helping her history paper.

**Hey**

Quinn glanced at the message that had popped up on her chat, its so simple the word '_hey_' isn't it, its meant to be just a small gesture, a way to say hello, but when it's coming from someone that you're trying to get back, the word holds so much more value.

Quinn was still in Rachel's icon. Photos hold so much value; they retain moments forever, even when life beyond that captured moment has moved on. Quinn was kissing Rachel's nose, and she was laughing, it had been so long since Rachel had spoken to her on IM, there had been no need, they had always been together.

Quinn wanted to say 'Hey beautiful, or hey baby, or hey girl I'm still so hopelessly in love with, but what was the point of that, when they were _trying_ to be friends.

She sighed slightly,

_Hey_

Instant reply,

**What are you doing?**

_My history paper_

**Liar**

Quinn grinned, Jesus she still knew her

_Ok I'm watching you tube parodies _

Rachel replied with a tongue face emoticon,

**:p no you're not, you're reading about the sky**

Quinn rested her chin on her hand, its amazing, how much someone can know you, to the point they can catch you on things without even being in the room.

**What are you reading about?**

_This professor called Brian Cox, he believes its possible to create a star on earth_

There was a slight pause before Rachel began typing again.

**There are already stars on earth…**

Quinn bit her lip, 'yeah you' she thought.

_How's your paper? _She replied changing the subject.

**I've finished :)**

Quinn laughed,

_How did I know that? _

**Did you need help with yours?**

Quinn knew what to write, History was one of her favorite subjects, but it was her ability to get so easily distracted that stopped her from doing anything other than last minute.

_I think I have the grounds as to what to write_

She waited a moment, staring a little too intensely at the 'Rachel is typing' down the bottom of the chat screen.

**How's Pop?**

God that was not a question she was prepared for. Where did she even begin to answer that? On some days he's fine, other days the deterioration is more noticeable, and then the other day it was almost like he didn't have dementia at all.

_Coping_, Quinn wrote back

**Are you?**

_Some days I am, other days it feels like the world wants to punish me_

God why did she just write that? She wasn't supposed to be dumping all her problems on Rachel, she has her own.

**I feel like that too, I want NYADA so badly, and the only way I think I can achieve this is to take guidance from Shelby, but then I feel like I owe her something**

_You don't_, Quinn typed abruptly and then she felt tingles in her fingers like she shouldn't have written it, what did she know about Shelby?

**I know**

Quinn felt herself sigh in relief, Rachel was actually talking to her, she wasn't holding back.

Quinn bit her lip, _Are you two getting along?_

The only thing in her head right now, was the locket and her breakdown in that classroom, and how Shelby had given her advice, maybe Quinn was the one that owed Shelby something. Dammit was this too much?

**For a long time I always believe my drive and ambition had come from my Dads and I guess most of it has, but its like written in my DNA you know, and Shelby just, there's something about her, I see her in me… its weird…**

That was such a long paragraph to write, Rachel was actually communicating what was in her head right now.

_That's not weird, you came from her, but just remember your Dad's are the ones that instilled and fueled that ambition…_

Five minutes went by without a reply and Quinn started to panic, had she over stepped the mark? God did she even know Leroy and Hiram anymore? It had been so long since she had spent time with them.

And then Rachel was typing again.

**I miss talking to you like this; you always make everything make sense**

Quinn melted, she literally collapsed on the keyboard, it was too much, she wanted to jump through the screen to reach her.

**I wrote you another letter**, Rachel typed, **but you had already left school the other day**

_Yeah Pop had a doctors appointment…_

**I'll leave it for you tomorrow?**

Quinn placed a smiley face on the screen, they look so trivial in perspective, but in reality, sometimes they're exactly the face she makes.

**Presidential campaigns are tomorrow!**

Quinn frowned, damn she'd completely forgotten about that.

**Britt and Kurt are in the running**

_I don't even want to know how this is going to go down_

Rachel took a moment, **Well I guess whatever happens just happens right?**

Quinn nodded to herself, _there's bigger things than McKinley High…_ she typed

**I need to find a new video camera this weekend; do you want to come help me find one?**

Quinn leant forward on her desk, nearly knocking the glass of water all over her notes.

_Are you planning on updating your MySpace account with new videos?_

Rachel responded with a tongue faced emoticon, **:p I'm thinking YouTube actually, did you know the more hits I can get, the greater chance I have of my name shooting into lights!**

Somehow Quinn assumed it was a little more difficult than that, but searching for new video equipment with Rachel sounded perfect, and she just couldn't resist

_There's a camera warehouse about half an hour from my house…_

**Pick me up around lunchtime?**

Quinn felt butterflies in her stomach again, Rachel trusted to get back in a car with her; it meant that she was open to being around her again.

_Ok_

**I have to finish math homework; I'll see you at school tomorrow**

Quinn deliberated for another five minutes on whether to put an X or not, when she really just wanted to just sign off with the familiar, I love you, in the end it was a _bye_ that finished their conversation.

But it had been a conversation hadn't it? One that had taken them so long to be able to have. It was over chat, where neither had to deal with being in close proximity to each other and could have a few minutes to think about their responses, but nonetheless, it had been a conversation.

Quinn double clicked the word document in the top right of her screen and stared at the letter she had written Rachel, she wanted to leave it in her letter box, but part of her wanted to see Rachel's reaction to it, maybe she could somehow find a way to give it to her at school tomorrow.

_But I can't open the door, like the door with the key_

_And I can't give you a love song, like the way they should be_

_I can't give you all there is, but I'd do everything for you_

_I can't be anything, but always in love with you_

_I can't stare at the sky, like the sky with the stars_

_And I can't hide away the stiches of these scars_

_All I do is miss us, and the way we use to be_

_All I do I miss you, just you, here with me_

_Is this how I reach you, through the beats of a rhyme?_

_Smalls, all I want is to be your star for all time_

Maybe it was too much. But that was the whole point of the letters wasn't it? To say the things that they couldn't in person?

"This is so weird," Santana grumbled.

"Can you just do it," Quinn muttered.

"Why don't you just give it to her?"

"Because, I can't write it in a letter!"

Santana groaned, "Pezberry does not exist Quinn,"

Brittany jumped up from the bleachers, "Well I think Pezberryierce could work,"

Quinn groaned, "I am not asking you to have a threesome with my girlfriend!"

"I thought you guys were friends now?" Brittany asked confused.

Quinn groaned even more, "Brittany!"

Brittany nervously danced on her toes, "San Quinn's confusing me,"

"I know me too baby," Santana replied looking at Quinn.

"Please!" Quinn pleaded.

Santana huffed and stood up, she tied her hands through Brittany's and dragged her down from the bleachers. She reached Rachel on the football field as she stood next to Ms Pillsbury, talking one hundred miles an hour.

Quinn leaned sideways to make sure Santana said what she had asked her too.

Sure enough Santana was now speaking to Rachel, what she was supposed to be saying, was that Quinn couldn't write it down in a letter, so she had asked Santana to help her.

And then Santana kept her word, Quinn saw her plant the smallest kiss to Rachel's cheek.

Brittany was jumping up and down.

Quinn watched from the bleachers as Rachel looked over to her.

She smiled slightly, before kissing Santana's cheek back, and in this weird way, Quinn swelled.

**. . .**

Hospital rooms will never be completely dark; there'll always be some source of light tracing itself along the floor tiles or the walls. It'll be like a runway strip, guiding the nurses and doctors to the patients in case of an emergency.

The week had started with Quinn's parents placing her grandfather's house on the housing market, the For Sale sign out the front made her physically ill.

The other day Santana wanted to write over it in black marker.

"_We'll just write SOLD instead Q, then everyone will get thrown off,"_

It was the first time in a while that Quinn had laughed, because the idea of them sitting outside the house like guard dogs had just been amusing.

Mid week Rachel had shown her Kurt's presidential campaign that she was helping him with. She had also shown her Brittany's campaign that Santana had asked for advice on.

"_I'm like a fork way Quinn, I can't choose sides, its like being asked to choose between gelato and ice cream, its impossible, they're the same!"_

"_Well ones less fattening_," Quinn had replied, and Rachel had playfully hit her.

It was the first physical interaction they'd had in so long, it sent shivers down her spine.

The very next day Mr Schuester had insisted each of them now attend Booty Camp, to improve their dancing skills. Mercedes had brought the choir room down with her protest but Mr Schuester was adamant. He was working them so hard; Quinn was wondering how any of them were meant to balance everything out.

On Thursday Brittany had involved nearly every girl at the school in a rendition of "_Girls Run the World_," to which she completely threw off all the other candidates running for Class President.

Quinn was so excited about the performance and so damn proud, but at the same time was panicking, because she had no idea what Kurt was going to do to counteract that.

The Glee club was just as divided, with no one knowing who to vote for or what to do.

"_I'm too preoccupied right now_," Tina had said softly the other day during history class.

"_What?_" Quinn had whispered, making sure to keep her voice as low as possible. One more wrong move on her part and she was afraid her teachers were going to disown her.

"_I mean I can't focus on anything else_," Tina had responded, "_I have Mike's Dad jumping down my throat because he doesn't think I'm good enough for him. I have Artie insisting that I vote for Brittany, then I have Finn insisting I vote for Kurt. I think Booty Camp is too much, and then on top of that I'm trying to fill out college applications and keep up with my homework and make sure I'm eating properly or I'll faint in the middle of rehearsals or something_,"

Quinn had just stared at her. She had absolutely no idea how to respond to that simply because it was all the truth, and all the way she felt too.

Dealing with school, and with the future, and with her Pop and her parents, and trying to find her way back to Rachel.

Trying to find her way back to being Fives and Smalls again.

When does life get so complicated? Do we make it complicated for ourselves, or is someone else doing that for us. It's like we're puppets on a stage and someone is controlling the way the play turns out.

For better or for worse.

It was almost like this storm cloud was above all of them right now, every day the pressure was growing inside the cloud. Circulating round and round until one day Quinn was sure it was going to hail down on them all. When that day was going to happen, she couldn't tell.

Now she had arrived at the end of the week, Saturday afternoon, when she was half through filling out an application for Yale and her mother had come into her bedroom with that face that Quinn had been hoping to never see.

The face that read, _something's happened to Pop_.

"_Another mild stoke_," the doctor had said earlier as Quinn had sat silently in the chair beside her unconscious grandfather.

"_Is this common?"_ Russell had asked.

"_It's nothing out of the ordinary_," Doctor Ridge had replied.

"_Where do we go from here? More medication?_" Judy had asked, and Quinn had seen the tears spill from her mother's eyes even before she had looked at her.

"_The effects of the stroke can only be determined when your father wakes up Mrs Fabray,_" he had replied, "_we just need to play the waiting game_,"

"_Will he wake up_?" Quinn had asked, fixating her eyes on her grandfather, his chest rose up and down in conjunction to his heartbeats, like moving mountains.

When the doctor didn't reply, Judy had burst into tears, and Quinn had gripped the sides of the chair until her knuckles had turned white.

"Well if only I had a lovely young lady by my bedside,"

Quinn glanced up, shifting slightly, because she had been so used to the silence these last few hours other than the beeps in the machine connected to her grandfather.

Quinn didn't say anything at first; she simply stared at the elderly man standing in the doorway.

"I don't mean anything by that love, just trying to give you a little cheer,"

Quinn smiled a little, "It's okay, just not use to another voice in the room,"

"Only one visiting?" he asked.

"No," she responded, "My parents have just taken a breather for a while,"

The man nodded a little, "Been here a while?"

"Just today," Quinn half whispered.

She watched as he trailed his eyes over her grandfather, there was this understanding in his eyes, as though he knew what was going on. Quinn couldn't explain it.

"Dementia isn't it,"

Quinn seem to suck in the air around her, "How did you…?"

"Wild guess," he responded, "Generally its either that or the cancer that gets us old fella's"

She wanted to cry.

"I don't want him to die," Quinn suddenly blurted out.

The man made a little face, which caused his wrinkles to pounce up across the surface of his skin, in the same way her Pop's did, every time he needed to think very hard about a response.

"Dying isn't such a bad thing Miss,"

"But it means he won't be here anymore, it means I'll have to live without him,"

Quinn didn't know what she was doing right now, she didn't know why she was saying all these things to this stranger, maybe it was because he reminded her so much of her grandfather it was uncanny. It was like an out of body experience you know. Her Pop was lying as still as ice beside her, and yet here was this man who looked a lot like him, speaking to her from across the room. He made a point to stay in the entrance of the doorway though.

"Do you want to know what it feels like when you're ready to die?"

Quinn bit her lip, was she ready to hear something like this?

The man smiled a little, and she knew he was going to tell her anyway.

"You tend to sleep more than what you ever have, you wake up in the morning and the very first thought you have is that you wish you could just close your eyes again. You turn the pages in books without actually reading what the words say. You don't dress as well, you barely eat anything, you don't do any of the things that feel like commodities because they are the exact things that are tying you to earth,"

He tilted his head slightly, scratching the sides of his face and Quinn noticed all the scars across his hands.

"But then one day you wake up and find this certain peace inside you. This peace that gives you enough energy to do one last awe-inspiring thing. Then suddenly things make you laugh again, suddenly people say you've looked the best you have in years and even though any minute is quite possibly going to be your last, you feel as though you could live forever,"

Quinn's lips were trembling.

"He's still got some steam," the man nodded, "Just you wait, that steam will kick in, and then he'll have one last go, one last go until he's ready to say goodbye,"

"And then what," Quinn choked, "What do I do when he says goodbye?"

The man shrugged, "You say," and he held Quinn's gaze, "You say, I'll see you in a bit,"

Things happen. People come and people go and those you love at one stage have to say goodbye. You might say it before them, or you might have to go through one hundred goodbyes, but in everything you do, if you hold onto that single bit of hope, that the life we lead with each other is enough, maybe when we do say goodbye, we can say it knowing that its all been worth it.

"You take care Miss," he said softly, and before Quinn could ask any more questions he removed himself from the room.

Not even ten minutes later her grandfather's nurse poked her head around the door.

"Mr Talcott wasn't bothering you I hope,"

Quinn glanced at her, "No he wasn't,"

"Good," she smiled, "You need anything love?"

"Why is Mr Talcott in here?"

The nurse took a breath for a moment, "Terminal," she responded, "He defies the odds every day though. Brain cancer, should have died at least three months ago…"

Quinn felt her insides fall apart.

"Still," the nurse shrugged, "He's always claimed he can't say goodbye just yet,"

"Why," Quinn asked before she could stop her self.

"Mystery to me," she said, "Seems to think he needs to explain something to someone, give someone some peace before he can go,"

Quinn watch her walk to her grandfather's bedside and fiddle with the tubes connected to his body.

"We'd all like some peace in our lives," she murmured, "Just a shame we all want it for ourselves rather than each other,"

**. . .**

Quinn was glad her parents had kept their distance; she figured it was because her mother was such a mess she just couldn't deal with the hospital room right now. Quinn didn't mind though, she was quite content staying here all night if she had to.

"We're here Quinn,"

Quinn turned softly to see Puck in the entrance to her grandfather's room, one by one the Glee Club filtered in behind him.

Lastly Rachel walked in, holding something in her hand. She trailed lightly over to Quinn.

"Open your hand," she whispered.

Quinn opened her palm lightly, staring at Rachel as she placed the locket in her palm.

"Everything's going to be okay," she murmured and Quinn felt the tears build in her eyes.

"You've still got some kick Snips,"

Quinn turned to see Kurt by her grandfather's bedside, stroking the sides of his shoulders, as though he was giving him a reassuring nudge.

"I really love that you're all hear," Quinn replied, wiping the tear that was sliding down her cheek.

"The nurses don't," Mike grinned lightly, wrapping his arms around Tina.

"But they can deal," Tina answered, her eyes glinting.

"We've come to do something very important," Santana said moving from the corner of the room and standing next to Kurt.

Brittany joined her in a heartbeat, curling her fingers through Santana's.

"I don't understand," Quinn said, tightening her grip around the locket.

Rachel was here, her Pop would be okay, if he could just open his eyes and realize that everyone was here.

"We've come to fix Snips," Kurt said nodding at the others.

"And we've come to _Fix You_," Rachel added and she held out her arms.

Quinn sunk into them, feeling familiarity like she had never felt before, like she was finally home.

And then her friends began what they had come to do; they began with the soft melodies of their voices, which always knew how to calm her.

_When you try your best, but you don't succeed__  
><em>

_When you get what you want, but not what you need__  
><em>

_When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep__  
><em>

_Stuck in reverse_

Quinn rested her head on Rachel's shoulder, listening to the hum at the back of her throat, listening to Rachel's voice for the first time in so long. God it sounded amazing.

_And the tears come streaming down your face__  
><em>

_When you lose something you can't replace__  
><em>

_When you love someone, but it goes to waste__  
><em>

_Could it be worse?_

The doctors were wrong, this wasn't it, her Pop was stronger than this, he had promised to help her write the memory book. He had promised to be here. He said that he wouldn't let his mind wander too far until she had written it.

_Lights will guide you home__  
><em>

_And ignite your bones__  
><em>

_And I will try to fix you_

_And high up above or down below__  
><em>

_When you're too in love to let it go__  
><em>

_But if you never try you'll never know__  
><em>

_Just what you're worth_

_Lights will guide you home__  
><em>

_And ignite your bones__  
><em>

_And I will try to fix you_

Maybe that's the reason why hospital rooms never go dark, the light is left on, for everyone to try and find their way home. Find the light in the world. Find the things that ignite you, that set your bones on fire and give you reasons to carry on. Quinn looked at her friends, she felt them, she felt them here in this room and she had never felt more alive.

And then it happened.

Arthur opened his eyes.

**. . .**

As Kurt sat squeezing her Pop's hands, and Santana brushed the creases from his bedside, and Brittany ran a small comb through his hair, Quinn snuck out into the hall.

"Have you reached my parents?" she asked the nurse waiting at the reception.

She smiled, "On their way love,"

Quinn sighed in relief; she could only imagine her mother's face. She was probably so relieved her grandfather had woken up.

There was something ticking inside Quinn's mind though, that something involved all that Mr Talcott had said, about that final monumental thing people needed to do before they said goodbye. Had her Pop woken up just to do this? Was she even ready to let him do this one last thing before he said goodbye? Maybe she could delay this goodbye for another million years.

"Excuse me love,"

Quinn stepped out of the way slightly, as two gentlemen wheeled a bed past her. Oh god they were undertakers, and that was a hospital bed, with a white cloth spread over a body.

Quinn felt light headed all of a sudden.

"Been waiting for him to have his last say," she heard one of the nurse's say to another.

"Whose left us?"

"Mr Talcott," she responded, "I guess he finally got to give some of that peace to someone,"

As the realisation sunk in, that this stranger had meant to pass the peace onto Quinn for her own grandfather, Quinn felt her knees give out beneath her.

Instead of the cold hospital floor that she was expecting, she felt two arms catch her; they held her tightly around her waist.

"It's okay Fives," Rachel whispered in her ear, as Quinn sunk into her home, "I've got you,"

The only person that could Fix her, was holding her, and Quinn never wanted to be broken again.

* * *

><p>P.S Little Readers…<p>

Keep updated with my original works! I promise not to let you down!

Also all links have also been put on my fan fiction** BIO page **because fan fiction has difficulties in showing links!

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	37. Chapter 36

Little Readers

Thank you for all your emails :)

You've absolutely flooded my inbox and I am STILL trying to get through them. Don't be disheartened if I haven't replied to you as of yet… I'm just very time poor. But I do promise I WILL respond!

Remember you're all amazing!

Remember thelittlereaders (at) hotmail . com

And remember, happy reading!

Court

P.S is it sunday for everyone yet? Sundays always reading day! Enjoy your sunday!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 36<strong>

_To be honest, I like who I am, when you're around_

Senior Year

* * *

><p><em>So, when you're reading this, you'll be sitting in math's class, probably next to Mike, who I am guessing is drawing pictures of angry birds instead of paying attention?<em>

Quinn grinned lightly, glancing at Mike beside her, his head was resting on the crook of his clenched fist and he was doodling one of the birds in the corner of his book. Rachel knew everything.

_I'll be in health class, ignoring everything Puck is attempting to teach me about sex. He should not be the one to talk about it… for obvious reasons!_

Quinn smirked, Puck should definitely not be talking about it.

_Do you remember our first time?_

Quinn started choking, holy hell she was not expecting that. Quinn tried so hard to hold her coughing to a minimum and not be so loud, but it was pretty much vibrating inside her throat. She felt Mike's hand start tapping her back, which no one ever realizes, just usually makes it worse.

"Jesus Q," he whispered.

"I'm fine," she coughed, getting her breath back.

"You sure?"

"Completely,"

Actually completely not fine, because now she was thinking about her first time with Rachel, and all subsequent times after that, and all times that she was not having right now, and all of a sudden her body was on fire.

"Call the fire brigade," she growled.

"Fire?" Mike yelped, "What fire brigade?"

It was too late, Quinn had said what she was thinking out loud and Mike had jumped up yelling fire, so now the entire math's class had been interrupted and Quinn's teacher was screaming detention for disturbance. As soon as Quinn had managed to sit Mike back down, reopen the text book that had been flung from the table, she retrieved Rachel's letter, from where it was hidden between her text book.

_All this talk makes me think about it sometimes. About being that close to you. Do you think we'll ever get back to that?_

The week had started with Mr Schuester deciding the final cast list for West Side Story. Rachel had been cast as Maria, exactly what she had wanted. Quinn was so proud of her, she couldn't wait to watch her perform, and she couldn't wait to perform along with her.

As rehearsals had begun, Mr Schuester had made the rest of the New Directions read the script as well. For the first fifteen minutes before Glee Club, they would all sit and read a paragraph each. As part of Artie's development for his college applications Mr Schuester had given him the position of director for the musical. Every time he gave a debriefing over how rehearsals were going, Quinn could see the glint in his eye, as though he was driving his passion. It was nice to see him shine for once.

The other day however, a discussion had erupted over the lack of sexual passion between Rachel who played Maria and Blaine who was playing Tony.

"_Perhaps because they both opt for different junk?"_ Puck had suggested.

Mr Schuester had glared at him for a good five minutes.

"_It shouldn't excuse their ability to act_," Artie had replied, "_You need to convey through experience, to create the human and realistic experience to the audience,"_

Quinn had suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable.

She wasn't the only one; Kurt had begun to drum his fingers on his thighs.

"_Are you insinuating that I am not experienced enough?"_ Rachel had said defensively and Quinn had smirked; this was typical Rachel defense mode in reference to her capabilities of acting and performing. However she had unintentionally just created a picture in their class' minds.

"_I'm sure you are,"_ Puck had grinned.

"_Stop,"_ Mr Schuester had answered, bringing his hands to his face, "_I think you all need to understand the importance of sexual relationships,"_

"_Schuester, I'm damn straight sure we know the importance," _Santana had quipped.

"_You're not straight sure of anything,"_ Kurt reminded.

"_Guys,"_ he had repeated, "_You need to understand the importance of ALL types of sexual relationships. Whether that be in terms of same sex, opposite sex, or no sex at all_,"

Finn had scratched his head, "_You mean virgins_?"

"_You make it sound like virgins are aliens_," Blaine had replied defensively.

"_Well yeah_," Puck had shrugged.

Blaine had seethed at him.

"_Sir, at my old school, they had this sex education week_," Sam had piped up, "_It was kinda cool, and we got to eat the cucumbers afterwards_,"

Kurt had nearly fallen off his chair.

Now for most of their health E.d classes, they were being drilled with the importance of safe sex. If they were being honest though, this was just a way for the majority of the student body to find out who was still a virgin.

Quinn bit her lip; clearly they knew she was most definitely not. It made her smirk though, did the whole school think at some point she was having sex with Rachel? Well good, Rachel was fucking hot. _Christ Quinn! Focus!_

_Did you know that the heart beats 100 000 times every day… but I swear to god it was beating that times thousands the first time we were together in that way._

_I don't even know why I'm telling you this, but then again, writing to you has always just made me think about things._

_Let's do something this weekend? After we've seen Pop? Just you and me?_

Quinn's heart was racing. She couldn't concentrate. She knew exactly what Rachel was referring to, because every time they touched each other Quinn was sure her whole body was going to explode, let alone the effect it was having on her heart.

**. . .**

"Everyone's talking about sex," Santana said sitting down beside Quinn and rolling down her socks, so the sunlight washed over the entirety of her legs.

"Well, isn't that what everyone's usually talking about?" Quinn grinned, squinting to look at her.

"Yeah but Q, it's so annoying, all the questions and everything,"

"What questions?"

Santana sighed, "Everyone wants to know all about how me and Brittany…" she trailed off, "Why are people so damn curious?"

Quinn shrugged, "Everyone's curious of things they don't know,"

"So just fucking do it yourself,"

Quinn laughed, "Some people aren't as keen to explore Santana,"

Santana folded her arms, "Look I love Britt, I've been in love with her since freshman year, this whole sex stuff is old news,"

Quinn glared at her, "Things not as hot anymore?"

Santana raised her eyebrows, "I'm sorry have you seen my girlfriend?" she paused momentarily, "Sorry Q, I know everything with Rachel is a little well… slow,"

"No it's fine, its…." Quinn smiled, "Almost like intellectual intercourse,"

Santana snorted, "That's the gayest thing I've heard all week,"

"Even better than Pucks reference to using a unicorns horn as a prop?"

Santana gritted her teeth, "He has absolutely no idea,"

"He's not meant to San, Jesus I had no idea what I was doing in the beginning either,"

"Do you think it's better with guys or girls?"

Santana shrugged, "I think it's better with Brittany,"

Quinn nodded, "I guess those health Ed teachers have something right,"

"What do you mean,"

Quinn looked to Santana, "People don't stop to wait for someone they love,"

Santana pursed her lips lightly, moving to stretch her leg, "Quinn some people don't get that opportunity,"

"I know," she replied, "I just, think it's better that way, that's all,"

Santana sighed, "Enough about sex, its making me hate Britt for wanting to spend longer with her history tutor, and I can't imagine all this talk is doing any wonders for you,"

Quinn sucked her lips, "You have no idea,"

"Well you have photos of Rachel, god bless who ever invented masterba….."

"Santana!" Quinn cried.

"What? Every girl is equipped with practice gear Q, it's a blessing in disguise,"

Quinn was about ready to sink down into the bleachers.

"Okay, to change the subject, there's something I really need to talk to you about,"

Quinn glanced at her, "Why do I get the feeling I won't like it?"

Santana took a breath, "Remember how Sugar's Dad donated all those Piano's to Glee Club to use?"

Quinn nodded, "Yeah I remember, but I wasn't exactly paying attention back then,"

Santana smirked, "Well Mr Motta has a lot of connections at Julliard…."

Quinn could see where this conversation was headed, even before it had lifted.

"Santana what are you….?"

"Hear me out Q," she protested, "Sugar was pretty upset that Mr Schuester wouldn't let her join the New Directions,"

Quinn sighed, "Santana she's tone deaf! She would ruin any chance of sectio…"

"She can dance ok!" Santana interrupted, "and Glee Club was always meant to be about allowing everyone in, I don't know when Schuester became so selective,"

"Since he wants to win," Quinn sighed.

"Yeah well I don't really dig it, it makes me feel like I have to perform like a freaking Broadway professional every time I enter the room, when really I just want to sit and watch Hudson jiggle his man boobs,"

Quinn smirked, "Sam was trying to teach him how to body roll the other day,"

"Are you sure that Trouty mouth isn't gay?"

Quinn shrugged, "The whole damn world's gay these days,"

Santana clapped her hands, "Amen!"

Quinn watched as she pulled her socks back to the normal height of the uniform, "Well anyway I'm just saying that I might start stopping in when Sugar has her rehearsals and stuff,"

Quinn frowned, "Wait, I'm confused, what do you mean?"

"I'm just saying that I might want to join Shelby's Glee Club,"

Quinn felt her mouth drop open, "But you love the New Directions, we're your friends, we're a family?"  
>Santana rarely became flustered, she had always been able to control a certain level of composure, right now however, Quinn could tell her insides were at war.<p>

"Maybe I can do both for a while you know," she shrugged, "It's just Mr Motta often brings scouts to sit in on Sugar's performances, and well, let's face it, if I was there… It would be an amazing opportunity Q,"

Quinn bit her lip, "I guess you have to do what you have to do San,"

She rubbed her hands together, "Quinn, Brittany and Mercedes are thinking about doing it too,"

Quinn looked at her incredulously, "Santana that's like three of our best performers,"

"Well not really, not with Rachel and now Blaine Anderson,"

"Are you kidding!" Quinn replied, "It's not a competition, we're meant to win together as a team, not individually!"

Santana shrugged, "Sometimes it doesn't feel like that,"

Quinn didn't know what to say specifically, she knew that a lot of the solos went to Rachel, and now that Blaine had transferred, he seemed to be getting a lot of the leads as well. But it wasn't really about favoritism; it was just because they were so damn good at performing.

"You don't want to sit in the back swaying for the rest of your life right?"

Quinn shrugged, "San, it's never been about me being in the lead anyway, I've always just loved quietly achieving, you know that,"

"So being Captain of the Cheerio's doesn't appeal to you any more?"

"Not as much as it use to, I have things on my mind to worry about,"

Santana seemed to think about this for a little while, "Do you think I'm being selfish?"

Quinn smiled, "No? You're looking to your future Santana, that's more than half of what our student body is doing,"

She seemed to relax a little, "Besides the New Directions, we'll always remember each other right? We'll always be, I don't know, connected?"

Quinn liked when Santana spoke like this, it was small snippets of how she acted when she was with Brittany; this was Santana in love and thinking about the world.

"I think that some people are just meant to always be tied together, like this invisible thread keeps us together,"

Santana nodded, "I think you're right," she murmured.

Maybe people tie their hearts so closely around people's fingers, so that even if one day they fall off, they just can't seem to help themselves, they'll pick up those same pieces and tie them back around that same finger.

* * *

><p>Do you even remember the first time you considered having sex? Or maybe you're still thinking about it. Either way, you'll take one of two paths. It won't mean much to you, and you'll just seem to get your first time over and done with, or it will mean so much, that you won't seem to be able to bring yourself to do it with anyone who you aren't completely crazy for.<p>

You don't get another first time.

You only get one.

How do you want it to be?

"Do you think it's possible to love someone forever?"

"You mean soul mates?" Quinn asked glancing at Kurt from across the room.

Kurt nodded, "Like endless love, like waking up in the morning and always wanting them there, knowing that you're a team, believing and trusting that they love you as much as you love them,"

"Kurt, I honestly think Blaine loves you," she replied, knowing that this had been on his mind for the better part of the afternoon.

Kurt closed his mouth for a moment, twirling on Quinn's desk chair as she toyed with the shutter on her camera.

"I'm thinking about having sex with Blaine,"

Quinn choked, which only made Kurt blush.

"Okay," she responded abandoning the camera.

"Oh Little B, don't look at me like that,"

"Like what?"

"As though I'm this little kid,"

"I don't look at you like that," Quinn objected, "I just don't want you making decisions just because our school has decided to make it 'sex talk' week".

"I've been thinking about it for ages actually," Kurt said biting his lip, "I love Blaine, Quinn, I love him so much, sometimes I don't even quite know what to do with myself,"

Quinn felt her heart beat against her chest. It was strange in a way, how every time someone would mention the word love, or Rachel's name, or even damn gold stars, her heart would start to move like it wanted to break free of her body, and find Rachel where ever she was in that moment.

Quinn knew the way Kurt felt, she knew because these were the feelings that had never really left the spaces that filled her heart.

"Have you spoken to Blaine about this?"

Kurt shrugged, "He's ready when I'm ready,"

Quinn frowned, "So what's stopping you?"

"Everything," Kurt smirked shyly, "You ever feel like you were born in the wrong era? That people who believe in old fashion love, holding hands before anything, waiting for the third date to kiss, and being in love, to do just that; make love, well…." He paused softly, "Don't belong in this decade?"

Quinn melted a little, "Every day," she laughed, "I'd give anything to be able to say in front of the entire school that I believe in making love, and not just sex, but Kurt society isn't the same as it was fifty years ago,"

"Why can't it be?" he asked, "Why can't we believe in romance over just fucking everything that moves,"  
>Quinn cringed a little with the use of his context, he was right though, when he said it like that, described the act with that word, it just didn't sound as poetic as what it should be.<p>

"Kurt I have a little faith stored someone in the mess that has become my mind, that people like us still exist, you just have to have that faith too,"

Kurt shrugged, "Do you miss it?"

Quinn frowned, "Miss what?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Sex Quinn, with Rachel, do you miss it?"

Quinn turned scarlet, "Oh," she stammered, she wasn't used to conversations like these with Kurt. If she was going to talk about sex, Santana and Brittany were the first ones she approached.

She took a steady breath, "Kurt, yes I miss being with Rachel like that. Touching her is like having permission to touch something wonderful. To be that close to someone, to be exposed in that way, it feels good. But I also just miss being with Rachel in general,"

Kurt stared at her, "Was it weird your first time? Being the same? Having the same…" he moved nervously, "Parts?"

Quinn grinned sheepishly, "No!" she replied, "Because it's all about learning, you explore, you become familiar with what feels right, and then suddenly nothing else really matters,"

He nodded, rubbing his hands down his thighs, to avoid the build up of sweat.

Quinn thought for a moment, "It's so easy to get turned on Kurt. God people can do that with Internet pictures, movies, magazines, it's so easy to sit there and look at someone and think you want to rip their clothes off. But to study someone you love or care about, learn every crease in their body as though it's your own, and always be fascinated by it, that's when you know you're making love. It becomes not about you feeling good, but about you wanting them to feel good too,"

Kurt's eyes twinkled, "Why aren't you running these classes?"

She snorted, "Because no one would listen to me,"

"I would,"

Quinn looked at the entrance of her doorway immediately to see Rachel standing there with a box full of her grandfather's belongings.

"I finish sorting," she whispered not taking her eyes off Quinn.

"Oh here, let me drop it in Quinn's car, ready for Snips' place tomorrow," Kurt said jumping up and just about colliding with Rachel.

"Kurt I swear, your subtlety sometimes," Rachel hissed glaring at him.

He smirked, disappearing and nudging Quinn's door closed.

Quinn was a little lost for words, "Thanks for doing that," she smiled, "I was stuck on what things to put into the book,"

Rachel shrugged gently, "I can come with you tomorrow, help you go through them with him and gather the stories for them?"

Quinn looked at her, trying so god damn hard not to pounce on her.

"He would love that,"

"Do you think he'll remember who I am?"

"How could anyone forget you," Quinn responded before she could stop herself.

Rachel looked like she wanted to burst into tears, "Quinn I don't know how to deal with all of this. I don't know how to control my heart or my brain because they're both telling me different things,"

"Just don't say anything yet," Quinn answered, stepping forward, "Not until you're ready,"

It was too late though because Quinn was mentally trying to stop herself from undressing Rachel with her eyes.

Rachel took a breath, before walking to Quinn and slipping her hands around her waist. She pressed her face into the crook of Quinn's neck and remained there, allowing Quinn to soak her in.

"I will always love the way you smell Quinn," Rachel whispered.

"You too," she responded.

"No, but you smell like pine in summer, like 1920s dresses, like pages in the oldest fairytale, you _are_ romance Quinn, you smell like home,"

Quinn felt the slightest trace of tears well in her eyes as she squeezed Rachel tighter.

You can be in love forever.

Quinn was holding it.

* * *

><p>There's something very distinct about Alzheimer's disease. Some days Pop won't know what's happening, he'll be stuck in the only memories his mind will allow. Other days he knows what's happening and he tries to make the most of those, because it's the only time when his mind has returned to being sharp.<p>

"This is a really nice place," Rachel said, as Quinn lead her through the courtyard to the east wing where her grandfather's little apartment was located.

"It took me a while to get use to it," Quinn replied, "I still find it hard,"

"Have your parents sold his house?"

"Not yet," Quinn responded holding open the door for her as they stepped inside, "Part of me wants it to stay on the market and never get picked up,"

"Maybe we can buy it one day," Rachel replied and Quinn nearly tripped over her feet.

"We could?" she stammered.

Rachel shrugged, "As if you've never thought about it,"

Quinn stared at her, "One day," she nearly whispered.

They reached Arthur's apartment complex and Quinn knocked on the door.

"It's open," came his voice and Quinn immediately opened the door.

As they stepped inside, she wished she had of kept the door shut. His lounge had been tipped sideways and he was crouched down beside it, glaring out with this wild look in his eyes.

"Pop?" Quinn asked.

"State your name solider," he responded, "Before I blow your head off,"

Quinn knew that this made sense in his mind, but realistically he wasn't armed with anything.

How could it seem so real to him?

"Pop," Quinn said again weakly, "It's me okay, it's your granddaughter!"

"I don't have a goddamn granddaughter! I'm twenty years old! I don't even have a kid!"

Quinn didn't know what to do; she hadn't been present for these days, or at least not without her parents near by to rescue her.

Rachel tried to step in, "Arthur it's okay, Quinn is your granddaughter,"

"This is a trick! A trap! You're spies!"

Rachel squealed slightly as he picked up the lamp beside his bedside and threw it in their direction. It hurdled across the room colliding with the wall and sending glass shades everywhere.

"Oh god," Quinn whimpered and she grabbed Rachel's hand, pulling her towards her, "Get one of the residents," Quinn said pushing her towards the door.

"Quinn I'm not leaving you. He's scared Quinn and he doesn't remember, he'll hurt you!"

Quinn locked her eyes with Rachel's for a moment, a moment that felt like eternity, "He won't hurt me, he's my Pop,"

"Please," Rachel begged struggling as Quinn managed to force her out the door.

"Baby," Rachel pleaded.

Quinn stopped closing the door, just enough to still be able to see Rachel. It was the first time she had heard that word from her lips in so long. It felt so good; it made it so much more difficult to believe they could ever just be friends.

Quinn whispered, "Go," before closing the door.

When Quinn turned back to face her grandfather, he had stripped a painting from the wall and was holding it above his head, in this way that Quinn could see his old army muscles flexed under the wrinkles, and his veins twisting angrily down his arms.

"Granddad," she repeated, "Remember when I was seven years old? I had a nightmare one night staying at your house and you came into my room and you sat down and you read Peter Pan to me,"

Quinn reached for the book that had been sitting on the side table from her last visit. She held it in front of her, almost like a shield, "Remember Pop? Remember you were going to take me to Never Never land?"

It took a few moments, ones that felt like hours, god maybe they did stand there looking at each other for an hour, but eventually her Pop lowered the painting. He had this great big look of fear on his face; his eyes puffed out immediately as thick tears welled beneath his lids.

"Oh Quinnie," he said and she knew that she had managed to bring him back again.

Her grandfather dropped the painting, and it fell to the floor with a crash.

"Quinnie," he repeated.

Immediately Quinn rushed to her grandfather's arms, sinking inside them, the way a cat curls into its owner when they come home.

"I knew you were still in there,"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Where were you?" Quinn murmured, but she knew that answer, her grandfather had been lost in his mind, a place that not even the most prestigious specialists could reach.

"I just took a little trip," he replied.

This seemed to be the only way that they could deal with things now. Pop would disappear, and then when he had returned, he would pretend that he had been away, and he was coming home.

"You've taken a lot of trips lately Pop," Quinn responded against his chest.

"I am well travelled aren't I,"?

Quinn felt the small rumble of laughter from inside his chest, that sounded like it was coming from his heart.

"Can I come with you next time?"

"You have to stay here Quinnie," he whispered, "You're the only one who knows how to bring me home,"

Quinn held onto her grandfather for longer, allowing the tears in her eyes to be soaked up by the cotton in his plaid shirt.

This morning she had been thinking about some of the people she had met while coming to her Pop's nursing home. Every so often she would accidentally bump a family member of a resident and then they would ask who she was here for. There was this one particular man, Morgan, who had lost his mother to cancer not even a month ago, and was now dealing with his father being in here for dementia as well. Every time she spoke to Morgan, he was polite and didn't seem to express how much his mother's death had affected him. But Quinn saw it in his eyes; she saw it because the holiday trip his Dad constantly spoke about was the last trip they had all had together as a family.

You don't know when it will be the last time. The last time you see someone, talk to them, celebrate a holiday, hoist a pint, laugh or cry or cringe at a movie together. Is it truly worse when someone who is healthy and fit gets taken by an accident or unexpectantly? Because as Morgan found out, his Mum was perfectly healthy during that trip and then dead of cancer not even two months later. It's so easy to think that ourselves and our loved ones are immortal, or that maybe we should live our lives never holding a grudge, always kissing our loved ones goodbye and always telling them they are loved.

But that's just it. We don't.

Not because we don't feel it, it's just people get angry, people slam doors, people leave without saying goodbye.

All because in our own minds, nothing bad could ever happen to us. Maybe the key is in not how many times we say I love you, but in how many moments they _know_ we love them.

There was a knock at the door and Quinn pulled away from her grandfather, wiping her eyes in the process. The door was swung open and Rachel stood there with one of the nurses.

"Mr Snippet," the nurse said, "Everything okay?"

Arthur nodded, "Now that Quinn is here," he replied, "Rachel Berry," he mused opening his arms, "Lord have I missed you,"

Quinn melted as Rachel immediately burst into tears and ran into her Pop's arms, squeezing him harder than her arms could possibly muster.

"Call if you need anything," the nurse said nodding at Quinn, and she removed herself from the room.

"So," Arthur said, standing Rachel upright and looking at them both, "Whose up for some peach ice tea and a trip down memory lane?"

Rachel held up the bag she had been carrying all this time, "I have what we need,"

Arthur looked at Quinn.

"I've got the camera,"

He smiled, staring at Quinn with one of his looks, "and I," he said softly tapping the sides of his temples, "Have the memories,"

As they slid into the small table and chairs, and began to pile things from Rachel's bag, Quinn couldn't help but want to freeze frame the moment, why couldn't she just keep this forever.

If only life was as simple as pressing the shutter down on a camera.

* * *

><p>"I had sex with Blaine,"<p>

Quinn spat out the coffee and winced as most of it went streaming down her history notes.

"That's fantastic," Rachel said looking up from where she had been quietly studying, "Now Blaine will know what to do,"

"Rachel, in West Side Story, he has to be intimate with a woman, unless you have some rod that you can shove…."

"SANTANA!" Kurt cried, "Can you not!"

Santana shrugged, "Welcome to the club Kurt, now suffer in silence as it's all you want and crave,"

"That's not true," Brittany replied, kissing her cheek, "Just last night you refused to do anything because all you wanted to do was watch me sleep,"

Santana buried her face in her hands, "Baby you're ruining my rep,"

"You have no rep anymore," Kurt shot back, "You big Gleek,"

Quinn grinned, "See why would you want to leave this?"

Rachel frowned, "Leave what?"

Santana bit her lip, "Nice one Q, I haven't had the chance to say anything yet,"

Quinn slunk in the library chair, "I thought you had,"

"She backed out," Brittany responded for her.

"Hello?" Kurt said, "I announce that my virginity was lost, and all you want to talk about is Santana's announcement?"

"It's a big one," Brittany replied.

Kurt looked alarmed, "You're pregnant aren't you,"

Rachel and Quinn both burst out laughing.

"No!" Santana replied eyeing him, "Jesus Kurt you sure you didn't physically harm Blaine?"

"Oh shut up," he responded.

"Well I'm sure you're all aware that Shelby has another Glee Club at the moment,"

Immediately Rachel's eyes shot to Santana, "It's not another Glee Club, it's just Sugar Motta thinking she can sing,"

Santana sighed, "Berrybox would you hear me out?"

Kurt was just as intrigued at this point.

"I've decided that I'm going to go along for a while, see what it's all about,"

"And what happens if you decide to stay there?" Rachel asked, "We lose a member?"

"Well two members," Brittany piped up, "I go where San goes,"

"This isn't happening," Kurt said, "Santana what on earth?"

Quinn knew Santana didn't want to have to explain the specifics, so she decided to come to the rescue.

"Look just let San do what she has to," she said calmly, "It doesn't mean anything, we still have way more members than what they do," she winked at Santana.

"Yes and I suppose Sugar does need quite some assistance," Rachel said softly, flipping another page of her book.

"I don't know," Kurt said warily, "You know how I feel about these drastic changes,"

Santana slid her hand across the table, "You give me your blessing, I'll give you so many sex tips Blaine won't know what's hit him,"

"And how are you going to do that Santana when what you're working with is completely different?"

Brittany grinned, "Oh we improvise now…"

Kurt's face made Quinn laugh again, "Just trust her Kurt,"

"And," Santana said, "Give me your blessing?"

"I don't need anyone's god damn blessing I just quit New Directions,"

Quinn reeled sideways to see Mercedes storm in to the library, sending a flock of freshman's scattering and nearly giving the librarian a heart attack.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kurt demanded.

"I am so sick of Mr Schuester and his damn booty camp, he basically told me in the hallway that he wants me to start working out as well, he has NEVER said that to me,"

"What?" Rachel asked frowning.

"He is so intent on working us all to the bone and I've had enough, I want to shine for once, instead of having someone throw me in the back of the stage and only use me when they want a high note,"

Quinn tried to reach out to her, "Cedes it's not like that,"

"Well I'm done anyway, I'm done with stupid booty camp, I'm going to do something for me for once,"

Santana bit her lip, "Yeah about that Cedes, looks like Britt and I will be coming in with you,"

Mercedes looked at them both, "You're going to come to rehearsals with Shelby?"

Every time her name was mentioned, Rachel seemed to sink further in her chair.

"It can't be that bad right?" Brittany asked.

Santana looked at Quinn, and immediately she knew what she was thinking. It can't be all that bad if someone from Julliard noticed them.

* * *

><p>A lot of people don't realise it, but stars are actually in constant conflict with themselves. The collective gravity of all the mass of a star is pulling inward. If there was nothing to stop it, the star would just continue collapsing for millions of years until it became its smallest possible size. Yet there is this pressure pushing back against the gravitational collapse of the star. This pressure is light. It's a similar type of conflict that humans experience. We have gravitational responsibilities that constantly pull on us each day, and yet our will to do what is right and to love what makes us happy, pushes against these responsibilities, which in effect helps us to cope.<p>

Quinn pulled her car just left of the curb and reversed into the car space.

"You know if you wanted to take me to the observatory, you could have just said, it's not anything new," Rachel quipped from the passenger seat.

Quinn looked at her with her eyebrows raised, "Are you implying that my star knowledge bores you?"

"No baby," Rachel smiled and then she caught herself, "I mean no Quinn,"

Quinn opened her door, "Sounds weird doesn't it?"

Rachel bit her lip, "I'm trying I guess,"

"No I mean it sounds weird you calling me Quinn and not baby,"

Quinn grinned at Rachel's shy smile as they made their way to the observatory steps.

"So what constellations am I learning about today?"

Quinn shrugged, "Oh we're doing something a little different,"

Rachel stopped in the lobby, staring at Quinn, "Ok I'm well aware that you have this place and all its staff wrapped around your finger but I demand to know what you mean by different,"

Quinn laughed nodding at Heidi behind the counter. She grinned and disappeared into the back.

"Fives," Rachel said irritably.

"I was really proud of the way you played Maria," Quinn shrugged, "I figured you could use a day off from being the Broadway star you were born to be, and well…" she turned as Heidi began to set the projector up on the small balcony just right to where they were standing. "I thought we could watch your favorite,"

"No," Rachel whispered, "How can we, it was never filmed, it was never…"

"Sam Evans inspired me with his Justin Bieber obsession," Quinn shrugged, "Never say never smalls,"

Quinn reached into her bag and dragged out the copy of _A Little Night Music_ she had managed to track down in one of the old online libraries. It had cost her a fortune, but Rachel was worth it.

"We're going to watch _A Little Night Music_ amongst the stars?" Rachel asked and she seemed to jump up and down slightly.

"How am I doing?" Quinn asked.

"You're back," Rachel whispered, and she gently placed a kiss to Quinn's cheek.

It's human intuition to constantly feel as though we've missed something. Day in and day out we always have these intense feelings that lie just beneath the surface of our skin, this collapsed feeling that we've gone through all these moments so quickly, and we haven't paid as much attention as what we should have. We should maybe draw from the things that go unnoticed, the things that other people in the world have taken the time to decipher. Most people suffer in ignorance, simply because they don't pay attention or bother to learn from others across oceans.

With everything in her life right now, between Senior Year, her grandfather, her friends deciding their paths, and trying to make it right with Rachel, Quinn had decided to read more, and to learn more. She didn't need to sit for hours reading novels, or engross herself in never ending documentaries, it was all about the small things that enter the brain, and stay there. The other day she had read that in the Japanese language there are three ways to say 'I love you,'.

'_Daisuka_' is said when speaking to friends, '_Aishiteru_' is said when moving forth in a relationship, one that is a little more serious, and '_Koishiteru_' is said to the person that they want to spend the rest of their life with. The Japanese have been following this rule for centuries, and they still continue to follow it throughout their language. Quinn liked this, not because the language was so beautiful, but because 'I love you' still had meaning. It had degrees, it had separate points of purpose and wasn't something that was so easily said just because someone could.

"This is going to be a perfect afternoon," Rachel said twirling and sitting on the blanket Quinn had placed out.

Quinn looked at her a moment, "Koishiteru," she whispered.

Rachel tilted her head, "Since when do you speak Japanese, what did you say?"

Quinn shrugged, "I'll tell you one day,"


	38. Chapter 37

My Little Readers :)

I was feeling generous, so I whipped up another chapter for you quickly! And also because I can't update for a little bit because I'm busy with the original works again!

So just in case I don't catch you before Valentine's day, and even though I'm no Casanova, I just wanted to send you my love.

A lot of people either hate or love this day haha! Some people complain that we shouldn't have one specific day to express love, it should be everyday, and ok maybe that's true, but I guess it doesn't hurt to make a huge celebration of love with teddy bears, and roses and all the works once a year. (If I could choose I'd buy heart shape balloons… cause they'd float in the sky right :/… I'm sorry lame)

It doesn't matter if you're in a relationship, single or missing someone, I think you should all express your love for anything and everything. Maybe this Valentines day it will be for your other half, or the friend who means so much to you, or a star in the sky, or your dog, or your cat, or maybe your favourite book.

Love is all around, if you look in all the right spaces :)

Just remember that even if you don't think you're special, there's a good chance someone else on this earth does. I think you're special!

Sending all my love from Australia, where ever you may be!

Court

P.S stay in touch! I melt every time you guys send me an email/message/tweet!

belikecourtney (twitter)

itsonlyyforever (tumblr)

thelittlereaders (at) hotmail . com

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 37<strong>

_The greatest gift you can give in life is to love as much as you can_

_Senior Year_

* * *

><p>Sometimes people forget that the easiest way to say how you feel is just by actually saying it. They have this inundated fear that whatever their opinion is, or whatever their feelings are, people just won't care. You might be a little surprised to know that there are still people in this world who want to hold conversation. Looks fade, people grow old and worn down and the prettiest of people develop grey hair.<p>

Quinn stared at the letter she had been writing Rachel, perhaps this was what the great Andy Warhol had been trying to say all along. People really should fall in love with their eyes closed. Because when the outer shell disappears, what's left over is everything on the inside. How can you possibly go on, when you don't know what makes up a person? It's like believing that a car works without the engine, that a star shines without any of the core, that love works without all the in between.

"Do you ever do any school work?" Mike whispered.

Quinn glanced sideways at him and smirked, "The answer you're looking for is Z"

He looked back down at his paper and squinted at the question for a moment, before his eyes lit up, "Q how did you know that?"

"I can multi task," she replied grinning.

"You want Yale bad hey," he responded.

Quinn toyed with her pen for a moment, "I guess I just want to work hard, everyone else seems to be doing it,"

Mike nodded, "Yeah I can't believe how quickly this year is going. Presidential winners are announced today,"

Quinn felt her stomach flip. You know there are certain things that they don't teach you in school. They don't teach you how to decide between two things that are of equal value. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be rich or poor, or how to walk away from someone that once meant so much to you. They don't teach you to read people's mind, or deal with your sexuality, they don't teach you what to say to someone who is dying, they don't teach you how to be a part of someone for so long and then suddenly go back to being a stranger. School teaches you basics, school is a shell, a platform, but eventually you leave that platform; you open the gates and the world rushes at you. So if you don't know anything that the world teaches, how can you really be prepared? Quinn wanted to brace herself, she wanted to be ready, but then again how can you really be ready?

There was a slight knock on the classroom door and everyone's heads shot upwards.

"Miss," Rachel said walking into the room, "Could I please borrow Quinn?"

Quinn's math's teacher look at her as though she'd just asked for a million dollars, "Why?"

"There's a slight problem in the girls bathrooms," Rachel said as though that was meant to fix everything.

Quinn watched her teacher fold her arms, "Look Miss Berry I am well aware of your history…"

"They have my permission,"

Sue Sylvester came up behind Rachel and glared into the room, "There's a sophomore problem. I need Fabray,"

Frowning slightly, Quinn immediately stood, scrunching the letter in her hand, before quickly following Rachel and Sue out of the room.

"You don't expect me to plunge a toilet do you Coach?" Quinn asked.

Sue snorted, "I'm wondering when you're going to start cheerleading again Q, but if I wanted to shove your pretty blonde head down the toilet, I would have done so already,"

Quinn bit her lip, before tugging on Rachel's sleeve, "Tell me," she whispered.

Rachel was struggling to keep up with Sue Sylvester's strides, "Sophomore," she said, "Natasha Hendricks,"

Quinn felt sick, "Oh god this isn't…"

"No," Rachel replied clutching her chest, "No this is an intervention,"

Quinn stopped walking and pulled on Rachel so she stopped with her, she nearly fell backwards, "Someone tell me what's going on, I don't even know this girl, what the hell is this about?"

Rachel looked at her, "She just got outed in front of her entire class,"

Quinn sighed, "Jesus,"

"I figured I needed a few seniors, to help calm her down," Sue said, "It was my fault really, I said something out of turn and it crashed down around me,"

Quinn glared at her, "You outed her, why would you do that?"

"Because sometimes I don't think Q," she responded and this was the first time in Quinn's life that she had ever seen a look of remorse in Sue Sylvester's eyes.

She cleared her throat, "You don't think I've coped nasty things said about me my whole life, because I decided to cut my hair short and work as a gym coach? The stereotypes will be the end of the world one day, unless a few good people stand up to them,"

"What can I do?" Quinn asked, "She doesn't know me?"

"No but we know what she's going through," Rachel said gently, "Remember?"

This was not what Quinn thought her day would be, one minute she was riding sky high because she'd actually answered something in math class using numbers, that she'd never been good at, and then the next she was preparing to give a coming out story to a girl she didn't know.

"I did not come out Rachel," Quinn said, "You know this, we both, god we both fell out of the damn closet, and even then I don't even know what I am, because you're the only girl I've been with, and I'm pretty damn sure you don't represent the entire LBGT community,"

"Fives," Rachel said softly, holding out her hand, "Calm down?"

Quinn took a deep breath staring at Rachel's outstretched hand as though it was made of gold.

"We'll talk to her together," Rachel murmured.

The scene that met them as they walked into the bathrooms was a sophomore student curled into a ball crying her eyes out.

"Christ," Quinn muttered.

"Natasha?" Rachel said gently, "Um, my name's Rachel and this is my…" Rachel froze.

"Quinn," Quinn said as Rachel became flustered.

"Please just leave me alone, I don't want to talk to anyone,"

"Well that's fair enough," Quinn responded, "But sometimes our heads become so full of thoughts that an explosion can occur,"

This caused Natasha to look up, she was younger than what Quinn was expecting, but there was this familiar defiance in her eyes, as though she knew what she wanted and no one was going to tell her otherwise, even if she hadn't realized it yet.

"We heard what happened," Rachel said.

"The whole damn school heard," Natasha sobbed, "I haven't even had the chance to tell my parents yet, my little sister is in freshman year, she's going to know, how the fuck am I supposed to explain this to her now,"

Quinn looked at Rachel, this was another falling out of the closet scenario that just didn't seem fair.

"You're not even too aware of it yourself are you," Quinn said softly.

"I just fell in love with a girl ok," Natasha murmured, "I don't know how or why, but now everyone just knows when I haven't even had the chance to be ok with it in my own head,"

Quinn knelt down in front of her; she looked so petrified; it was everything Quinn could do not to bundle her up into a hug.

"Can I give you some advice you probably don't want to hear?"

Natasha looked at her, tears streaming down the sides of her face, "Is it a rulebook of how to deal with all of this?"

Quinn laughed, "No, just something I've learnt along the way,"

She nodded.

"You can cry as much as you want to," Quinn said gently, "God I've cried the whole Nile, but sooner or later you're going to stop crying, and then you're still going to have to decide what to do,"

Natasha looked at her through her puffy eyes, "They laughed at me, they pointed at me, they said I was a dyke,"

People are so cruel sometimes. They throw words like they're weapons and don't stop to think how much they can puncture someone's heart. There's no need to be so mean, why would you want to watch the light disappear from someone's face?

Wouldn't you want to be the reason for their smiling eyes?

Quinn looked at, "Do you want to see what I was writing to the love of my life?"

Natasha nodded, trailing over Quinn as though she was the Queen who had all the answers, even if she was still only learning it herself.

Quinn dug out Rachel's letter from her pocket and unfolded it, the ink was scrawled in her loopy handwriting, the exact way she had done so in the beginning. She instantly felt Rachel draw a breath.

Quinn cleared her throat, before following her words and reading out loud, "When you're in love with someone, you're in love with the details that make up who they are. You're in love with the kindness that sits in their eyes, you're in love with the laugh that makes you want more, you're in love with the way your heart jumps as they walk in the room, you're in love with the way every part of them fits with yours. You're in love with them, because they're the piece and you're the jigsaw that no one else can understand,"

Natasha was looking at her as though she'd just written a sonnet from Shakespeare.

"Natasha," Quinn said, trying not to be so damn distracted with the way Rachel was looking at her, "If you love girls, that is ok, you do not have to love boys, it's not a requirement, it's not a necessity. What _is_ a necessity is that whomever you decide to love, you love every detail about them, do you understand?"

Natasha nodded, "Are you single?"

Quinn laughed, gently placing her hand in front of Rachel as she shot upward, "I'm in love," she responded, "And one day you'll find that too. Now come, enough of being in this damn bathroom, we'll walk you back to your locker,"

Quinn helped her to stand, before smirking at Rachel as they left the bathroom.

"So remember," Rachel said, "Hold your head up high okay,"

Natasha nodded, "I wish you two were in my grade,"

"Well the whole damn grade is about be divided," Santana said coming up behind them, "Kurt or my boo, I don't like this,"

Quinn sighed, "Is it really time?"

"Whose this?" Santana asked nodding at Natasha who seemed to shrivel.

"Oh she's a unicorn," Brittany smiled.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Baby sometimes your gaydar…"

"I'm a unicorn," Natasha said, "And I'm proud,"  
>Santana seemed to stare at her with this odd expression on her face as Rachel and Quinn both laughed.<p>

"Well done," Quinn replied.

"Yo Tash,"

They turned slightly as another junior approached them. Quinn recognized him as one of the sophomore rugby captains Josh Coleman.

"Heard that these dykes were trying to keep you loving rainbows, I reckon you just need the right guy to straighten you out,"

"Excuse me?" Santana spat and Quinn loved how she just stepped in front of Natasha when she'd only just met her.

"Back up lesberita," he taunted, "Tash just needs someone to make her normal,"

"She is normal," Quinn replied agitated, "Back off Coleman,"

"And who are you to speak baby mama, I know all about you,"

"You know nothing about anything," Brittany responded, "I know more than you,"

Santana pulled on her arm, "Baby how many times do I have to tell you that you're smart,"

"Tash let's just go into the locker rooms," he smirked.

"Let's just realize that even if she was the last person on earth, you wouldn't stand a chance," Rachel responded.

Josh grimaced at her, taking a step forward.

"Turn around," Quinn demanded, "And don't ever come near her again,"

He snorted, "Oh as if,"

"If you do," Quinn threatened, "I'll tell all the football players where you really like it,"

He looked mortified, "But I don't…."

"Puck and Finn still rule this school," she responded, "One impregnated me, the other dated me for most of freshman year, don't you think for one minute that they won't do exactly what I say,"

He gulped slightly, "I'm out bitches,"

Quinn stared after him.

"Look at you using your heterosexuality," Santana smirked.

Quinn shook her head, "I am never going back to men,"

Santana clapped her hands, "Britt, hurry up you're throne awaits, see you around Natasha," and she tore off down the corridor with Brittany.

"I better get back to class," Natasha said softly, "Thank you, really, I mean it…"

Quinn smiled lightly before watching as she left and disappeared into the west wing of the school.

"You were amazing in there," Rachel murmured.

Quinn turned to her, "I was only barely surviving Rach,"

"You were really writing that for me?"

Quinn sighed, "I don't care what place we're in right now, you're still the love of my life…"

"Stop," Rachel whispered, "Don't say another word or I am going to kiss you and never pull away,"

"Ok," Quinn breathed, "That wouldn't be so bad…"

"I can't," Rachel responded, brushing her hair behind her ear, "I'm not ready and…"

"Then kiss me with your hand," Quinn replied lightly and she held it out for her. Rachel smiled, as relief seemed to wash over her, and she tied her fingers through Quinn's.

"Let's go see who's our next president," Quinn grinned.

**. . .**

"It's a tie," Figgins said bluntly.

"What?" Kurt asked incredulously.

Brittany stepped forward, "So Kurt and I will be able to run the school together?"

Figgins coughed into the microphone, "Students, I give your new student presidents, Kurt Hummel and Brittany Pierce.

Rachel was already on her feet squealing as the rest of the auditorium stood in stunned silence.

"Kurt!" Brittany grinned, "Double rainbows do happen!"

* * *

><p>How would you spend your last moments on earth?<p>

Would you be daring and hang glide over the South Pacific, would you line up old tin cans and shoot them pretending it's a scene from the wild west, would you take a basket full of sandwiches, pick a sunny spot on the bank and leave a note saying '_I've gone fishing'_?

Who would you spend your last moments on earth with?

Would it be your oldest friend, would it be the one you love, would it be the family you grew or the neighbor you spied on. Would it be someone you trusted or someone you barely knew?

What would you say in your last moments on earth?

I did the best I could, I am the person I always hoped I would be, I regret some things, I regret nothing at all, I know who I am, I wish I had figured it out. Hey you; I love you, Hey you; I'll miss you, Hey you; I have to go now.

Some times people forget that the world really is this giant storybook. When you're born you begin chapter one, and then all through your life you spend your days filling in chapters. Some chapters we'll enjoy, others will make us cry, some will make us laugh and others will have heartache spilt across the pages. All the while you might be on the edge of your seat, or you might kick back with cups tea. You might have chapters you want to share, and others that you keep to yourself. But one day, hopefully after years of chapters, you're going to come to the conclusion. The very final chapter, the last thing you'll ever write.

Are you going to be content with what you're written? Will the ink on pages measure up to the words that represent your life? When the book is finally finished, can you look back and say, I gave it my all, I'll be proud for someone to read my story?

The afternoon had been quiet, and the sun had been bouncing through the clouds in a constant game of hide and seek.

"Quinnie," Arthur said softly, "How do you feel about a little adventure?"

Quinn looked up from where she had been putting the finishing touches on the album she had created. Rachel and Kurt had helped her with the entire thing. There were now pages full of photographs of all of Arthur's old belongings, with stories to match. Quinn could keep this, and pass it on to her own children. Next week she was going to take the box of belongings to the Pawn Shop and let them run free so to speak, amongst all the other stories brewing through the clutter.

"What type of adventure Pop?"

Arthur smiled slightly, "The type that involves stories,"

Quinn bit her lip, "Granddad you know we have to sign wavering papers for you to leave, plus your nurse is coming to check up on your vitals in an hour,"

Arthur looked at her, "Sweetheart my bones feel stronger today, my mind is as sharp as a tack, and there's something I so desperately want to purchase!"

Quinn couldn't move past his face, this was the most alive she had seen him in so long.

"Okay, so how do we get passed the nurses?"

Arthur's face spread into a grin, "We blow a hole in the wall with firecrackers!"

Quinn's face went from placid to completely freaked out, she was trying to remember what arm was meant to tingle when you were having a heart attack.

"Darling," Arthur said, "I'm kidding!"

Quinn relaxed almost immediately, but was still clutching her chest, "Pop!" she said, "Don't do that!"

"We are sneaking out though!" he replied, reaching for his plaid jacket and hat slung over the chair.

"I don't know how we're going to achieve that, the nurse's are so strict," Quinn sighed.

Arthur was looking at her with his smirk that Quinn had not seen since before he had been diagnosed.

"Santana was very kind to lend me something the other day, so you're going to wear it briefly, just for the nurse on reception today,"

Quinn frowned, "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about,"

His eyes lit up almost instantly, "Quinnie," he said excitedly, "The receptionist is gay!"

"So?"

"So!" he replied, reaching under his bed and pulling out the uniform Quinn had not seen in ages, "You wear this candy striped outfit and we can escape!"

Quinn felt her insides come apart again, "Oh Pop you are absolutely kidding!"

Arthur shrugged, "Quinnie she will…" he paused, "Oh Santana said the word the other day, and I can't remember… oh… dig it!" he grinned, "Yes she will dig it,"

Quinn smirked, "Maybe if Santana was wearing it,"

Arthur frowned, "Well actually Rachel was quite upset that I wasn't filming you in it, she did ask if you could keep it afterwards…"

"Pop!" Quinn cried, and then she sighed, "I put this on and she'll really fall for it?"

He grinned, "Just walk up the hallway Quinn and I'll sneak out the back and meet you at your car,"

Quinn bit her lip, what in the world was she about to get herself into.

**. . .**

Quinn was so glad that there was no one wandering around the halls today. Glancing at her reflection in the sliding glass doors made her nearly want to run and hide. She could not believe her grandfather had suggested this.

When Santana had worn the candy striped outfit last Halloween she had caused a total of twenty three people, both girls and guys to choke for a solid five minutes, before begging for her number. By the end of the night she had gotten so drunk, pinned Brittany against the wall and was asking her to marry her right then and there. Thank god this was not the same situation.

Yet it may as well be just as embarrassing.

"Hi," Quinn grinned sliding up to the counter.

The target Jessie Bolten, was standing on que, mission distraction had commenced. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, Quinn wanted be sick because it was as though she was just about ready to start flirting with Brittany's doppelganger.

Jessie did a once over and seemed to fixate her eyes in Quinn's general chest area, which was a little flattering considering they weren't anywhere near the size of Santana's golden globes.

"I'm here to deliver smiles?" Quinn said, and immediately she felt like an idiot.

"Really?" Jessie smirked, "To who?"

For gods sake she didn't think about this, the plan was for her to drag Jessie away from the counter so her grandfather could sneak passed.

"Anyone who needs them?"

Jessie laughed, "And you have to wear a uniform to deliver smiles?"

"Well you're smiling aren't you?" Quinn replied and immediately she wanted to curl into a ball, Christ she was flirting with another girl, another girl that was not Rachel and who was looking at her as though she was going to eat her.

"I am, why don't you follow me out back?"

Quinn wanted to cry at this point, out back? What the fuck were they going to do out back?

"Sure," she replied, and she watched as Jessie made her way from behind the desk.

At this point Quinn was panicking. Just as she was about to follow Jessie through the staff doors, she saw her grandfather sneak around the corner and slip through the sliding glass doors. He winked at Quinn as he went passed and she felt a sigh of relief at the thought the plan had succeeded.

"You coming candy?" came Jessie's voice and Quinn smirked, she felt a little bad, not entirely, but a little.

"Are you a parking ticket?" she called again, "Cause you've got fine written all over you,"

_Christ _Quinn thought, _what in the world was that line?_

Quinn quickly grabbed the keys from the desk and bounded over to the door Jessie had disappeared into. She shut the door with a snap and then locked it behind her.

"Hey!" her voice responded, "What are you playing at?"

"I'm sorry!" Quinn replied and she grinned before taking off through the entrance doors.

**. . .**

Occasionally there comes a point in your life when you think not a moment has moved. Then suddenly you take the time to realize that you already have a household full of kids, some grey hairs and you look down to see your feet are a hundred miles away from the rest of you. You've realized then that perhaps your life has been moving at this rapid rate you weren't really prepared for.

"Pop," Quinn laughed ducking out of the way as he threw a feathered hat in her direction.

"Who do you think wore that?" he asked grinning, "Maybe she was a secret Princess, Ohio never knew about?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Pop what did we come here to get?"

She felt like they were fugitives on the run, the way her grandfather had hooted as they had pulled out of the nursing home car park. She had driven through the town, until she had pulled up outside the Pawnshop. The owner had been more than delighted when Arthur had walked in through the doors.

"Snips!" he had grinned, "Long time old boy!"

Her grandfather had shook his hand, and then proceeded with his usual hustle and bustle around the store. Quinn had watched smiling; it had been so long since he had been able to do this. It was hard to imagine that this had been his little Sunday sanctuary for years and years, and then suddenly it was taken from him.

"Quinn," he said, "I want you to always remember something,"

Quinn stopped glaring an oversized doll that looked extraordinarily alike to Barbra Streisand, and thinking whether Rachel would be into toys, to glance at Arthur.

"I'll always remember what you say Pop,"

"Whenever you can't find me Quinnie, just remember I'll be where The South Side of Anywhere is,"

Quinn felt shudders wind their way from her ankles to the very pits of her stomach.

"Pop we said we weren't talking about…"

"I'm just saying Quinnie, always remember the South Side of Anywhere,"

"I will," she murmured, and he grinned.

"Now, help me,"

Quinn filtered herself around the piles of objects that only seemed to be thicker than last time before reaching Arthur as he struggled to pull down a large box. They managed to drag it down, after Quinn had spent five minutes standing on a small wooden chair.

It was covered inch by inch in thick grey dust.

"Pop," Quinn coughed, "What is this?"

"The very thing I've been looking for all these years,"

"How'd you know where to find it?"

He shrugged lightly, "I don't know, I just woke up this morning, knowing that today was the day I was going to find it,"

Quinn frowned, "What is it?"

Another smile broke out across his face, "First we pay and then I'll show you,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Stop being so mysterious,"

"Oh Quinnie, you've always loved that,"

Quinn laughed as she followed him to the counter, he was right about that, it was one of her favourite things about him.

**. . .**

"Granddad!" Quinn said, half jogging to catch up with him, "When you storm off like that, it makes me wonder who's replaced your bones with super sonic ones,"

Arthur laughed in front of her, the great big box tucked under his arm, "I knew Judy wouldn't sell my place,"

Quinn shook her head, as they rounded the corner and he clicked his way into his front gate.

"Pop," she said following him, "What is this plan you have, we can't go in here, it's on the market?"

Arthur remained quiet until he reached the porch. He set the box on the table and then proceeded to sit in one of chairs beside it. The picture looked far too familiar.

Quinn sat down on the left chair.

"This will always be my home," he said smiling and with glinting eyes, Arthur unclicked the rusted lock and unfolded the box, to which made Quinn grin from ear to ear.

"Wow!" she said.

"Isn't she marvelous," Arthur replied, his eyes trailing over the oldest chessboard Quinn had never seen.

A board so old and finely detailed, she could only assume that this had been an originally constructed piece. From memory she new that chess had originated in India during the Gupta Empire around the six-century. Arthur had explained that the period was known as _chaturariga_ which translates into the "four divisions" of the _military; infantry, cavalry, elephantry_ and _charioty_, which eventually evolved into modern pieces _pawn, knight, bishop and rook_. Looking at the board now, Quinn was fascinated at how old it seemed.

"This Quinnie," Arthur smiled, "Is an extremely old chessboard. I've had my eye out looking for one of these for years,"

"How'd you know what it was Pop?"

"See these markings here?" he said pointing at the patterns winding their way down each of the sides, "These indicate this is a sixth century piece,"

"God Granddad it'd be worth a fortune,"

"Well only to those who know its worth," he grinned, "And we are going to play a game,"

"I don't want to break any of the pieces,"

Arthur laughed, "Come Quinnie, let's get some peach tea, for old times sake,"

Quinn looked over her shoulder, "I'm not sure there is any,"

Arthur winked at her, "Bottom left of the fridge, up the back, when you slide out the bottom, I kept some there…"

"You hid it from Mum?"

"I was always coming back for one more game Quinnie,"

Quinn shook her head, "That's just like you," and she bounded up, taking the spare key from under the mat and letting herself inside the house.

In a weird sense the house seemed to greet her as she walked inside, as though it had been empty and lonely for so long, the first sign of movement was enough for it to light up and ask Quinn to be it's friend. All her grandfather's belongings had been moved out, it was almost like walking into an empty shell.

As though the hermit crab had moved on, and left its home on the beach for someone else to find. She missed this place; it held so much memory and so many ties to the things she had been through in her life, let alone to her grandfather. It's funny how people can grow connections for buildings.

Maybe we're not all that different to hermit crabs, they shed their shells when they outgrow them, but at the end of the day, that shell in the beginning, well it will always be the first place you called home, the one that you continuously come back to. That's the place that has your heart.

When Quinn returned to her grandfather, he had already set out the pieces and his eyes were twinkling.

"I remember telling the boys about this back in the old army days", he said, "It's so funny today Quinnie, everything just seems so damn clear!"

Quinn smiled, placing the peach tea next to him, "Well good Pop, but I still think I can beat you,"

He laughed, "Game on Quinnie, game on!"

Just like that, they slipped back into the same habit they'd had for so many years. A girl playing chess with her grandfather, on a sunny day, in some distant town in Ohio.

**. . .**

"You want a refill?" Quinn asked.

Her grandfather nodded lightly, smiling.

"Where to next Pop? You want me to take you back?"

Arthur shook his head, "You know where I would like to go to next?"

Quinn stood from the chair, smirking, "The moon?"

He chuckled in response, "You'll build a spaceship will you?"

"Anything for you," she murmured, and she made her way to the front door, "Really Pop," she said, "Where are you going next?"

Arthur grinned, "The South Side of Anywhere!"

Quinn laughed, "Of course you are, I'll be back,"

He winked at her before she disappeared into the house to find more of the peach tea.

**. . .**

There are moments in our lives that are far bigger than we know at that time. Sometimes if you look back, you might just say that certain moments are life changing. They are those moments that you never ever saw coming, moments that even if you had a hundred years to prepare for them, you never really would be.

"Pop I got you an extra tall glass so you'd have enough energy for the South Side of Anywhere," Quinn said pushing the screen door open and setting the glass next to the chess board.

"Pop?" she said again.

He was sitting the way she had left him, his arms resting in his lap, his legs stretched out before him, with one foot crossed over the other. Only his head slightly mulled to the side, resting on his shoulder as though he had decided to take an afternoon nap.

"Pop," Quinn repeated.

Here's the thing about our senses, they're generally very good at detecting the things we don't want to. So when you don't want to see death, chances are its as bright as life itself. When you don't want to hear death, chances are the silence of someone's heartbeat will be louder than it ever was when they were alive. When you don't want to feel death, chances are you can feel the coolness running across the persons skin as though it was the only thing you've ever felt.

Quinn sat down beside him. She reached over the chessboard and placed her hand over her grandfathers.

Still, a little cold, lifeless.

"Say hi to the south side of anywhere Pop," she whispered.

Quinn sat next to Arthur for the rest of the afternoon.

Until the light had faded, the birds had nestled away, and the only heartbeat she could hear, was her own.


	39. Chapter 38

Little Readers,

How'd you like the Valentines episode? All that lip locking hey haha well not with faberry, but close enough brittana! AND… WHITNEY HOUSTEN! Such sad news! I can definitely say I belted out a few "I will always love you's" in my car with Australian love song dedications… such a loss to the music industry!

To all of you who always want to know how excited I am with every episode… just remember… I like writing about these characters, it doesn't necessarily mean I watch the episodes :/ but bravo for winning online evote Faberry thing (did I get that right? Lol)

Once again thank you for all the emails and messages I always reply… just give me the chance!

All my love!

P.s speaking of love, tell me what you guys got for V'day (and if any of you say the 'Brittana kiss' I don't know what I'll do…:p)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 38<strong>

_You're not the first to lose someone, and you won't be the last_

Senior Year

* * *

><p>In the past three days Quinn had leant something very important. Something that she had always known, but had never really paid close enough attention to the detail of it. You can never stop anything from happening. You must let it happen, because chances are, if it wants to, it will.<p>

Whether it has your permission or not.

There's a certain feeling you get, this cold sick feeling, deep, deep down inside your stomach; a feeling that people try to describe, that people try to think of a word for, but can't. It's when you know something is happening, or is about to happen that will essentially change you.

Sometimes you don't want it to change you, but it can't be stopped. In this moment, you realize that there will now be a before, a what was, an after, and a what will be.

Is there a word for this feeling? What do you call it?

Whatever you think it is, you'll always know, that you will never ever, be quite the same person.

The church was mostly full, but all Quinn had been able to fixate on was the casket lying on the altar. Everywhere had been decorated with daises, like the ones from Pop's garden. There was an ocean of mourners like a black sea, sitting in the pews, mostly crying, some bent heads, others eyes locked on the back of Quinn's head.

Last night her mother had called Frannie and Spyros. Quinn could hear Frannie's crying even through the phone.

"_Hugo,"_ she had kept repeating, _"He was meant to meet Hugo,"_

And suddenly the whole damn thing had become what felt like a million times worse. She had crawled on her windowsill, hung her legs over the side and stared out into the gray bowl of the sky.

It had been empty; the stars had not dared come out from the clouds that covered them. She had wondered if her Pop was up there. She had felt angry, at the thought that he wasn't, because the sky had looked so lifeless. Where was her Grandfather that should be smiling down at her, he certainly wasn't beside her, even if she so badly needed him to be. It had happened then, maybe a wire had ticked in her mind, Quinn wasn't sure. But suddenly she could see Arthur in everything, as though he was right in front of her. He was sitting in the chair beside her bed in the morning; he would walk her down the stairs and watch her as she made breakfast. He would tell her to call Rachel or Kurt, and then tell her to hang up because she still had him to talk to. She didn't know if he was a hallucination, if it was grief playing with all the heartstrings that seemed so torn, but she didn't care, she wanted her grandfather to stay. She did not want him to leave, not now after she had said her eulogy, not after they would bury his casket, not ever.

It was strange in a way because it made her think, that if people could still stand, well they could still walk, and if people could still walk, then maybe they can float. Maybe her Pop was just floating now, she wished if anything she could float with him.

The reverend had done a nice job with the service, for the most part of what Quinn was listening to at least. For the first time in all of Quinn's life, she finally understood what religion's real purpose was. The world's practical purpose for religion; was because it gives most people a script for when everything becomes so horrible you have absolutely no idea what else to do.

Quinn could smell Rachel's perfume, even above the smell of death, even above the smell of incense in the church, it was Rachel's smell of autumn that was engulfing her, which is why, even if her eyes had not strayed from her grandfather, she knew Rachel was making her way to the front of the church.

In that very moment, Quinn heard her mother draw in a breath.

You know most people can't always convey what they feel through words. Most of the time people are raised on hallmark greeting cards and just seem to think that every time they open their mouth this long, wonderfully crafted sonnet is going to come flying out and make everyone's spirits lift into the air. But it doesn't happen like that, people haven't been running monologues in their minds since birth, or practicing storytelling everywhere they go, so most people just don't have the ability to express what they're really trying to convey.

There is however, something incredibly beautiful about speaking from the heart. It can almost all the time, transport even the most confused of words into nothing short of poetry.

Here's the thing, people work almost eighty five percent better, under pressure. So in most group meetings when you are made to stand up and introduce yourself and three things about you, generally most people cave and tell the truth. If you've ever been to an anonymous meeting of any kind, you might find that often people, who stand up, are pitching stories of redemption, desperation or hope. They each have natural beginnings, middles and ends, and you can see it in their eyes, everything they're saying is coming straight from their heart. Quinn was meant to stand up today and speak about her grandfather, she was going to have to look out into the crowd of mourners, most of which had come up to her before the service and hugged her, even if she had absolutely no idea who they were.

She'd scribbled some notes, but mostly she had locked herself away in her room the other day and had been crying so hard, that now all the ink was smudged and she couldn't tell her A's from her 0's. It had to be worthy though; this had to be worthy of her grandfather. Through all of this thinking going on in her own mind, she still couldn't take her eyes of the casket, and she still couldn't help the small wriggling feeling in her stomach, that she just wasn't ready to say goodbye.

"Arthur was a wonderful man," Rachel said into the microphone, god her voice sounded so clear, it sounded so perfect.

"When Judy and Russell asked me to say something this week, I didn't really know how to react, I felt honored to say the least, because Arthur was someone I looked up to. He was someone that accepted me for who I am, and he…" Rachel paused, "He accepted, and supported both Quinn and I when…." She looked directly at Quinn, and they both were trying so hard not to cry, "Arthur was just a pillar of support to us, and for the most part I just wanted to read this poem I made for him,"

Quinn sunk slightly against the wood of the church bench she sat on. Rachel had made him a poem. How can she feel so grief stricken and yet so in love at the same time?

It was mind blowing.

Rachel unwrapped the small piece of paper she had held onto tightly throughout the beginning of the service. She looked at Judy and tried to smile, she looked at Quinn and tears started to well.

"There is nothing I can do, to make him come back,  
>There are no words I can say,<p>

That can replace his words that you long to hear,

There are no answers I can give that will satisfy your questions,  
>There is not another soul I can introduce to you,<br>That will ever replace his,  
>And there is no love I can offer you,<br>That will ever replace the love you shared.

I cannot promise your broken heart  
>Will ever be complete,<br>I will not say that it could have been worse,  
>I will not deny that it was a tragedy,<br>I will not lie and tell you he will be back,

Because he never really left

I do promise you he hears you when you speak,  
>I will say he loves you no matter what the distance,<br>I will not deny he is in a better place,  
>And will not lie,<p>

He is waiting to greet you someday.

He is every step you take  
>He is everything you do<br>He is the air you breathe  
>He is every beat of your heart<p>

Arthur is like the wind, you cannot see him ... but you will always feel him."

Judy was already hunched over weeping into Russell's shoulder. Quinn could feel Kurt as he shook beside her, and the sound of soft subtle cried, she knew was coming from Santana sitting behind her.

Rachel in all her dignity, paused, to allow tear drops to fall from her eyes, before she spoke into the microphone once more. This time, Quinn knew she was speaking to her grandfather.

"You can't stop being Snips. That was one of the last things I said to him. And I think for those of us who love him that might stand for the whole story. For all of us who maybe knew him for a little while, or who had known him our whole lives," Rachel looked directly at Quinn, their eyes locked, and Quinn didn't dare look away, because those eyes were her lifeline.

"For all of us who were lucky enough and had the pleasure to really know him, we all know that, he'll never stop being Snips,"

It comes down to minutes. In the span of three or five minutes, most people will just watch them tick by. They will be insignificant, hold no purpose. Humans lose hundreds of minutes each and every day. But sometimes, on rare occasions, it is in those fragmented minutes, those short pieces of time, those moments that seem so small compared to the grand hour, well those are the ones where something happens, that you will remember for the rest of your life. Rachel's speech took four minutes. Four minutes, to cement exactly what Quinn had known all along.

This was the girl she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

Quinn's mother was looking at her, puffy eyes, tissue in one hand, the other tied in her father's.

This was it.

It was time for Quinn to speak. She had no idea how she was going to.

Slowly, Quinn rose, she felt lightheaded, as though all the air in her head had been sucked out and sent spinning in all different directions. She moved past her parents, felt Santana reach out and touch her back, in a final way to tell her she was going to be okay, before making her way up to the alter. You know you never really notice how much detail goes into a church until you have to stand on the altar and really take it in. From the glass paned windows, to the patterns etched on the end of the pews, even the color scheme in the carpeting.

Staring out into the crowd that had shown for her grandfather, she began to wonder how he could have ever known this many people. Could he have been close with all of them equally? Is there enough room in someone's heart to fit a hundred people? That's an awful load for one heart to carry, how in the world is anyone supposed to share it all around.

Quinn leant slightly on the wall behind her, trying to force her legs to stop shaking. She didn't know how she was going to even stop herself from falling over, let alone speak.

"My grandfather is…" she began, and then she faltered. Quinn faltered because of one small error in what she had said. It is no longer _is_, it should be _was_. God how can this be, how can he just not be here anymore?

It was like she could feel the grief twisting its way from the blackest parts of her heart, it scraped past her stomach and made her want to vomit, it tore through her throat and made it impossible to speak, and then it found its way into her eyes, where it forced the tears to spill down the sides of her cheeks, as she tried so hard not to collapse into a fit of sobs.

Kurt stood first. He stood up, and he marched his way to Quinn's side. He slipped his arm around her waist and he pulled her upright.

"You stand up now Little B," he whispered, "You stand up and you do this for Snips,"

Quinn could barely control her shaking.

Santana stood next; she had tears sliding down her face, as she helped Brittany up beside her. Together they walked through the aisles and stood bedside Quinn. Puck rose as well, he nodded at Russell, kissed Judy's cheek and climbed onto the aisle. The rest of her friends followed in pursuit. One by one forming a half circle around her, supporting her, willing her to keep going.

The last to stand was Rachel, she moved her way back down the aisle, and took her place next to Quinn. Through her tears Quinn felt Rachel's fingers slip down her back, trail down her arm and knot through her own hand. Out of all the _I love yous_, out of all the _its so sads_, out of all the _I'm sorrys_, said to her today, Rachel said the one thing that Quinn had needed to hear all along.

"You are the bravest person I know," Rachel whispered, "You can do this,"

Inhaling a tight breath, squeezing Rachel's hand and leaning slightly on Kurt, with her friends around her, Quinn began what she had set out to say.

"I think grandchildren have a special vantage point. By the time we meet our grandparents, they've probably made most of their mistakes and learned most of their lessons. Their secret journey, unobserved by others, has imperceptibly carved itself into their faces. When a little child looks at her Granddad she knows who he is, maybe in her innocence she even catches of a glance of his eternal face,"

Quinn felt the lump growing in her throat, as she thought about her grandfather's face, she thought about his smile, about how his whole face would scrunch when she was trying to explain new technology or a modern phrase that one of her friends would use. She tried to steady herself, to speak as clear as what she hoped she was, but she knew that her words were probably coming out muffled. A squeeze from Rachel and it pushed her on.

"I also think that grandparents lives are so whole, that when they end, you realize they've told the story all of _our_ lives. Arthur, my grandfather, or Snips as he was so fondly called by all the important people in my life; had that kind of life.

As I knew him, he was handsome and debonair and defiant; and he had his own brand of funny. If you listened to him you found he was a deep thinker with a penetrating and progressive mind. He felt deeply, we all knew that, even though we respected the veil he often tried to put over his feelings. Most amazing of all to me, he didn't seem the sort of person who simply let life happen to him. He was always an actor in it. He always wanted to be in control of the things around him, even if in these last few months he didn't have much of that control,"

Quinn felt the shudder crawl its way up from the tips of her toes and take over her whole body. Why did he have to get dementia, why did it have to take control of him like that? It's not fair. It's not fucking fair.

"Grandad always loved good stories. And I think for me that defines him most. He was someone who adored stories. He served our country for a number of years, before finding his soul mate, marrying her and growing a happy family. He loved the good things of this life; he loved chess, peach ice tea, conversations with my friends, and all the stories left behind by strangers. The last few months of Pop's life were tough and for those of you close to our family, you would know how much pressure that put on my parents and our family. However we pushed through, and we will push through with his passing. I was with my Pop on his last day, his mind came back for the day, he remembered everything so clearly, and we got to have one final adventure. I think it was one of the best days of my life.

I hope you choose to remember him for the amazing man he was. But for me, I will remember him as my best friend. I love you Pop, I'll meet you on The South Side of Anywhere,"

* * *

><p>"Don't go," Quinn whispered, "Just stay a little longer,"<p>

Arthur smiled at her, "I'm going to have to go eventually Quinnie, you know that,"

Quinn shook her head; she couldn't explain what her mind was doing right now. Somewhere inside her she knew her grandfather wasn't really sitting on the edge of the bed, but she refused to reason with logic. He was still here; she could see him as clearly as she could weeks ago. Only he looked brighter, she could touch him if she wanted to, and she knew he would still feel as wrinkly and warm as before.

"Quinn?"

Her door pushed open and instantly her grandfather faded with the light that spilt in with the hall.

"Hi," Rachel said softly.

Quinn seemed mute for a moment, as though her eyes couldn't leave the spot in which her Granddad had just disappeared from.

"It hurts," she murmured eventually, and Rachel tentatively sat on the edge of her bed.

"It's going to hurt," she replied gently, "For a long time,"

"You don't get it," Quinn responded looking at her, "I still see him,"

"Fives," Rachel said softly, "You can't, he's…."

"Rachel I see him,"

Quinn begged her silently; she just wanted Rachel to say it was okay to be feeling like this, that it was okay to be hurting this badly.

"Do you remember over a year ago, before we'd even had our first kiss, and you saved me from Azimio?"

Quinn stilled completely, this was something they hadn't mentioned in ages, and she had no idea why Rachel was bringing it up now.

She crawled towards Quinn, god the way her hair fell across her shoulders made Quinn's stomach erupt in butterflies. She was still the most beautiful girl she had ever known.

"Smalls," she faltered, "I hated that day,"

Rachel smiled lightly, "But do you remember afterwards? You laid with me, and you kissed my pain away,"

Quinn was staring at her now, "Not like this though, not when everything feels so broken,"

"Baby lie back," Rachel whispered.

Quinn was under her command now; she was too weak from crying to argue.

"I don't want to feel like this anymore," she whispered, "I want to spend the rest of the year being happy, I mean sectionals is approaching and everything and its crazy…"

"Quinn stop talking," Rachel whispered and she pressed her lips to the curve of Quinn's neck.

Immediately she set Quinn's whole body on fire.

"That day," Rachel murmured, "You took all the pain I felt, just let me do the same for you,"

"Rachel if you keep kissing my neck, I won't be able to…."

Rachel pushed Quinn's hand away, "You chose to be distant Quinn, you chose to put our relationship on hold, you chose to disappear for weeks on end, let me choose, to come back to you,"

Quinn stopped moving, allowing Rachel to slid on top of her.

Rachel moved her lips across the crevices of Quinn's collarbone, pulling at her skin with her teeth in a way that slowly made Quinn's pain subside.

Softly Rachel leant over her, and kissed her forehead, she lingered for a while, hovering over Quinn like a lifeline, like a blanket to keep her warm, like a shelter to keep her safe.

"Stay with me tonight," Quinn murmured, sliding her leg down Rachel's.

She paused to look at her slightly, "Fives…"

"Rachel," Quinn whispered, "You're one of the only things in my life that I've chosen for myself,"

Rachel continued to stare at her.

"You weren't handed to me on a silver platter, you weren't an obligation or a duty, you were the thing I fought for, the thing I'm still fighting for, please will you just stay with me tonight?"

Rachel buried her face into Quinn's neck, reaching her hand to cusp the side of her face, gently stroking it with her thumb.

"My night moisturizing kit is in my bag," she grinned.

Quinn laughed, not the pretend laugh that she had been using all week, but a real laugh.

"God," Rachel sighed, biting Quinn's cheek playfully, "I miss that laugh,"

"I miss you," Quinn replied.

It felt like they didn't go to sleep for hours. Instead they lay wrapped in each other, listening to each other breathe, relearning the rhythm they once had before all the heartache.

And maybe this had been overdue; maybe this is what had been needed this entire time. Even so, as two girls slept, trying to retrace the place they fit with each other, a lost soul sat on the window ledge, all because one of them refused to let go.

* * *

><p>Your parents are supposed to be the rulers are they not? They dictate what you can and can't do when growing up. They're the only two adults who could possibly scold you for not brushing your teeth. For Quinn, these past couple of years it had been double. She'd had her own parents, but then also Rachel's two Dad's. Yesterday she had spent the day at Santana's watching re runs of Dexter while Santana argued with Rachel over factual evidence vs the fiction and Brittany just looked confused over the entire ordeal.<p>

Today Rachel and Kurt were having a NYADA day, which apparently consisted of ways to write the perfect early admission essay, yoga and a diva off. Quinn had opted out. She had spent the last hour standing at the corner of her grandfather's street, trying to decide whether she could face the pawnshop. After a moment she turned on her heel and walked in the opposite direction.

Lima was usually quiet on Sundays, most people stayed at home to catch the NFL. Even so there were still a handful of people roaming around town. As Quinn rounded the corner he was standing by the telegraph pole.

"Pop," she smiled.

He stared at her for a while, "What are you doing today Quinnie?"

Quinn shrugged, "Going to buy a new notebook to store my history notes, my other one is full, you want to help?"

Her grandfather nodded with a small smile.

Quinn proceeded into the supermarket ignoring the odd look she was receiving from a woman, who undoubtedly presumed she was talking to herself.

Maybe she was.

Quinn filtered through the aisles, glancing at sale items here and there, before reaching the stationary section.

"Pop," she said, "Should I go for a leather cover or just a normal paperback?"

"Which ever one feels right Quinnie," he responded.

Quinn laughed, "You would say that,"

"Do you think I should get more pens pop? If I get a sharpie, Puck has a bad habit of drawing all over my arm…"

"I take it the stationary section is rather chatty today?"

Quinn jumped nearly a mile in the air, as Hiram Berry suddenly stood beside her, arm full of tomato paste satchels.

"Hiram," she spluttered, "What are you doing here?"

Hiram raised his eyebrows, "Oh just about ready to perform a number in aisle four," he smiled lightly, "Groceries Quinn, like any normal parent,"

Quinn nodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Did you get my emails?"

Quinn bit her lip, "I've been meaning to respond it's just everything…"

He held up his free hand, "No rush, I was just beginning to think you didn't like me…"

Quinn hung her head, "You're the one who's supposed to be mad at me remember,"  
>"I was," he said, "Seeing Rachel cry herself to sleep every night wasn't the best image,"<p>

Quinn wanted to close her eyes and crawl into a ball.

"And then I realized that you were hurting just as much, and it was wrong of me to think someone as young as you, would have any clue as to what she was doing, let alone intentionally hurt my daughter,"

"Hiram I just really…"

"Really can't seem to let go of your Pop,"

Quinn sighed, "Again thank you for coming to the funeral,"

"Quinn!" he cried, dumping the tomato paste in the shelves just to reach over and grab her by both shoulders, "Stop!"

Quinn stilled under his grip, no other adult had been able to successfully shake her like this, to be able to look into her eyes with theirs and beg her to tell the truth.

"He's still with me," Quinn whispered.

"I can see that," Hiram replied bringing his hand to the side of her face and brushing away her hair, "Darling girl, this is beyond anything good,"

"No it is good," she responded pulling away, "He gets to stay with me, he doesn't have to go anywhere,"

Hiram shook his head, "Grief Quinn, lingers for a while, but the only way to be open to healing is to allow it, don't let the wall take over again!"

"Quinn?"

Leroy had arrived behind Hiram, "Ramy, why on earth are these tomato satchels dumped here? Do these people not know how to stack?"

Hiram didn't take his eyes off Quinn.

"Sweetheart," Leroy smiled softly, "What are you doing so far away from me? Come here!"

He opened his arms, and Quinn immediately fell into them, wanting to fall against his silly green overcoat and cry her eyes out.

"Why were you two so forgiving?"

Leroy looked at his husband, frowning slightly, "Well darling, when Rachel taught us how to successfully send an actual email, she told us to email you… you seem to have a way with words,"

"But I'm a complete mess,"

"Not in those emails," Hiram interrupted, "Quinn sweetheart, we found it in ourselves to realize Rachel wasn't giving up on you, for god sake you can't give up on yourself,"

"What's going on?" Leroy demanded, and pushed Quinn upright, "Have you been having nasty thoughts?"

"Not like that," she whispered, "Just, my Pop, I don't want him to leave me…."

Leroy glanced at Hiram and in just one look it was almost like they understood each other.

"Oh dear," Leroy murmured, "What shall we do with you?"

"Nothing," Quinn murmured, "I'm keeping my Pop and all his things and everything will be okay,"

Hiram placed his arm around his husband, "Here's what you are going to do, you are going to meet us, on the north end of your grandfather's street, you will meet us there whenever you are ready,"

"And how will I know when that is?"

"You'll know," Leroy whispered.  
>"And how will you know?"<p>

Hiram shrugged gently, "We will go every single day. We'll wait for you Quinn, no questions asked, no one told,"

Quinn looked at them both, they were so real and alive in front of her, the same way Arthur felt whenever the light caught the shadows in her room. Why can't he be as real as what they were standing in front of her?

. . .

Quinn had missed three days of school. Judy didn't mind, she had let her. Rachel had sent the same message per day. All it read was, "_You are strong_,". By the same hand, sectionals was approaching, Kurt and Brittany were busy running the student body and Shelby had started to cement a Glee club to rival the original.

"_The troubletones are amazing_," Puck had said on the phone the other day, "_And hot,"_

"_Puck,"_ she had replied, "_you're speaking as though they're transfer students, its still the same Santana, Britt and Cedes,"_

"_I know but I'm kinda worried Q,"_

"_So they've stopped coming to our Glee altogether?"_

"_No just Cedes, San and Britt still come, but Schuester has no fucking clue what's going on,"_

Quinn had bitten her lip. Of course he wouldn't he was too busy attempting to create the perfect set list, dealing with Ms Pillsbury's OCD and trying to be a half decent Spanish teacher.

"_Come back soon Q,_" he had said before hanging up and Quinn had nodded silently, she'd just needed time.

Quinn walked past her grandfather's house for the fifth time that afternoon. She had been pacing backwards and forwards, carrying the box of his things that she was going to drop off at the Pawnshop. The house had still not been sold, and it made her just want to buy it herself every single time she walked past.

"You keep pacing with that damn box darling and you'll have larger biceps than me," Hiram called and Quinn spun around on the spot.

"What biceps?" Leroy asked and Hiram playfully punched him.

"You're here," Quinn said, slightly out of breath.

"We told you we would be," Hiram replied, and suddenly Quinn knew where Rachel had inherited that endearing gaze. The same gaze she would spend hours in lock with.

"Come for a walk Quinn," Leroy smiled, and as Hiram took the box from her, he linked an arm though Quinn's.

They came to a stop just left of the north paddock, where the trees were the tallest, the grass was the longest, and the openness of it all, felt the same way a five year old would feel, when their mother gave them ten dollars to spend in the candy store.

Quinn closed her eyes, and when she reopened them, Arthur was standing amongst the grass blades. He had his best plaid jacket on, his little brown hat, and of course his favourite loafers.

"I can't do this…" Quinn whispered.

She felt Hiram place his hand on her shoulder softly, "You know why I've always believed that love represents everything this world is good for?"

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because love is the only way that we can remain, even after we've passed on,"

Quinn felt the tears slide down her face as Leroy made a point to stroke the back of her head.

"Your grandfather Quinn," Hiram said gently, "Will always be alive, because of how much love you, and all these people had for him,"

"It's time to let go Quinn," Leroy whispered

"But I see him everywhere," she replied still allowing the tears to spill down her face.

"Let him find some peace sweetheart," Hiram responded, pushing Quinn's hair behind her ear, "He's not going to be erased, he's just going to be put to rest,"

What are the little horrors in your life? The things that drive you crazy?

Spilt coffee in the morning? Mud on the carpet? When the boss springs a surprise evaluation or audit at work? Increasing petrol prices?

It's funny, how these are the things we complain about, when in reality when something happens far greater than these things, like losing your house, a fight that leaves you empty, saying goodbye to someone you love; those little horrors are the things we actually beg for. Do you think maybe it might make it easier if we knew what was coming?

Not at all.

Humans don't realise that those little horrors in our lives, are actually, the best moments we can ask for.

Well, at least compared to the unthinkable.

There was a musky smell in the air, the same one that had always been so familiar to Quinn each time she entered her grandfather's home. She could feel it circulating around her. The Pawn shop was a short distance behind her, and as Hiram and Leroy hung back to allow her the space she needed, Quinn walked south, watching the crickets jump in and out of the grass blades.

"This would be a good place to write a story Pop," she whispered, "With all of people's old things just beyond the gates, think of all the stories that could spring from there hey,"

Quinn closed her eyes and reopened them again. And suddenly it wasn't the same. She couldn't see her grandfather as visually as she had been able to these few weeks. She'd noticed he had begun to fade slowly over the past few days, the conversations had been less coherent, as though she really was talking to herself, like the delusion was ending, like he was slipping away.

How could she let go of someone who meant so much?

How do you do that, how do you go on with your life, when that someone is missing? They're not there, you can't see them, or touch them, or have the conversations you so badly miss.

Quinn inhaled deeply, there's an old saying, rumoured to have come straight from deaths mouth. Death reasoned that humans always die twice. The first is when you stop breathing, that last breath escapes your body and death takes you in their arms. The second, maybe a little bit later on, is when somebody says your name for the very last time.

"I love you Grandad," Quinn whispered into the wind, just before the sun sunk behind the hills.

When it had sunk, and the sky had turned into night, Quinn knew what it meant, it meant goodbye.

* * *

><p>P.S Little readers, you may notice that there was no direct mention or rewrite of an episode in this chapter. Only because I honestly wanted to give the character Snips a fairly decent send off… therefore currently rewriting "Hold onto Sixteen" for the next update...<p>

Email, message, stalk me x


	40. Chapter 39

Little Readers,

Allow me first to apologise. It has been… what a century since my last update? I assure you though it has been for good reasons!

Three things.

1. Fuck the truck

2. Watch the Walking Dead

3. I just spilt tea over my cat and she's drenched and angry

Yes. I am highly irrelevant these days. But after weeks of not being able to say it… I rejoice that I finally can.

**HAPPY READING! :)**

I love you lovers!

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 39 <strong>

_Hey you, you're young, hold onto that would you?_

Senior Year

* * *

><p>Now she was supposed to go back to her normal life. Because that's just what people do. When something happens, no matter how life changing or uprooting, once it's over, you return to what was. But how can anything ever be the same when you feel like you've changed so much? Slowly her mother stopped breaking down in the kitchen when she thought know one could hear her crying. Frannie stopped calling the house to check up on them every day. Her father went back to his poker nights, and Quinn, well she stopped looking out the window, hoping her grandfather would be standing at the edge of her driveway, telling her to hurry up because the antique store would be closing soon. It takes death to make you realize that sometimes life throws surprises our way. Some of these surprises we will like and others we will not, but at the end of the day life is mostly made of things none of us can control. So perhaps life isn't what we make it, perhaps instead life is what makes us.<p>

"Santana this is absurd, you cannot abandon the New Directions,"

Santana folded her arms, "Rachel there are going to be Julliard scouts at Sectionals, and it looks good if me and Britts are on the same team as Sugar,"

Rachel gritted her teeth, "But we're your friends,"

"Sugar's our friend too," Brittany frowned.

"Rachel what do you care, you're still going to get the damn solo,"

Rachel shot Mercedes one of her endearing looks, "No, I want us all together because this has been a really emotional few weeks,"

"You don't need to babysit me," Quinn said, walking into the choir room and letting her bag fall to the floor, the damn history books were getting so heavy.

Rachel immediately blushed, "Quinn, I didn't…."

"It's fine," Quinn shrugged, "Go be with the Troubletones, Rachel and I are going to kick your asses anyway,"

She offered a small smile, to which Santana grinned back, "Thank you,"

"Just don't think Mr Schue is going to be so understanding," Quinn replied, and she stepped lightly around Brittany, before grabbing Rachel and pulling her to the piano, "Don't be so dramatic," she whispered in her ear and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"What's up to my red solo cup!" Sam said walking into the room with Puck and Finn.

Quinn shook her head, "You get weirder by the second Evans," she called.

"No actually he's picked our warm up song," Mr Schuester replied walking in after them, "Don't you girls have some else you need to be?" he said turning to Santana, Brittany and Mercedes.

"Whoa," Mercedes frowned.

"I'd ask the three of you to leave please, the choir room is booked and reserved for the New Directions,"

"Mr Schue," Santana said, "It's not like that,"

"Out," he responded, "You're a distraction to my Glee Club,"

"I don't recall belonging to you," Quinn muttered and Rachel stepped on her foot.

"Fine," Mercedes said icily, "See you at Sectionals,"

Quinn watched as the three of them stormed from the room.

"Sam," Mr Schuester said immediately, "Take it away would you please,"

Sam looked a little lost for words at first, before he nodded at Puck and the both of them grabbed guitars.

Sam ran his fingers through the guitar strings for a moment before he sang,

_Now, red solo cup is the best receptacle,_

_For barbeques, tailgates, fairs and festivals,_

_And you sir, do not have a pair of testicles," _he winked at Puck who rolled his eyes_._

"_If you prefer drinkin from a glass…_

Mike leapt up from his chair and slid into the centre of the dance floor, "_That's true_"

Sam grinned,

"_Hey, red solo cup is cheap and disposable_

_And in fourteen years, they are decomposable,_

_And unlike my home, they are not foreclosable_

_Freddie-Mac can kiss my ass_

Finn clapped, "_Woo_!"

Quinn nudged Rachel softly, trying to get her to sway along to the song.

"I don't want to sing about stupid red cups," she whispered.

"For me smalls!"

"_Red Solo Cup (Aha)_

_I fill you up_

_Let's have a party_

_Let's have a party_

_I love you_

_I lift you up_

_Proceed to party_

_Proceed to party_

Mr Schuester tapped the piano nodding at Quinn, as though he was glad to see her back in the classroom.

Sam strummed the guitar a little harder, "_Now, I really love how you're easy to stack,"_

Finn stood up, "_But I really hate how you're easy to crack,"_

"_Cause when beer runs down in front of my pack,"_ Sam said shrugging and Finn looked at Mike "_Well that, my friends, is quite yucky_,"

Sam grinned,

"_But I have to admit that the ladies get smitten_

_Admirin at how sharply my first name is written_

_On you with a sharpie when_

_I get to hittin on them to help me get lucky!"_

Mr Schuester laughed at his face.

_Now, I've seen you in blue and I've seen you in yellow_

_But only you, red, will do for this fellow_

_Cause you are the abbot to my Costello_

_And you are the fruit to my loom_

_Red solo cup, you're more than just plastic_

_You're more than fantastic_

_And believe me that I am not the least bit sarcastic_

_When I look at you and say:_

_Red solo cup, you're not just a cup_

Quinn laughed, "_Mhmmm!_" she said leaning in and kissing Rachel's cheek as she huffed into the piano. Her cheeks immediately flushed from the feel of Quinn's lips on her skin. Quinn tapped her fingers against the keys causing a tune, which eventually made Rachel grin.

'_No way, never!"_ Tina called spinning as Mike twirled her.

"_God No!"_ Finn said.

Sam moved over to him, _"You're my-you're my friend?"_

"_You're my friend!"_ Quinn cried and she looked at Finn a moment as they briefly made eye contact.

"_Lifelong,"_ he replied, still staring at her.

"_Uh uh,"_

"_Thank you for being my friend Red Solo Cup,"_ Sam sung and he strummed the guitar dramatically as Puck did one of his air warm-ups to join him.

"Yes!" Mr Schuster laughed as they finished, "That's what I am saying!"

"Please tell me we are not singing about Red Solo Cups for sectionals!" Rachel sighed.

"No!" he responded, "But we are singing in unison and remembering why we're all here,"

"To win?" Puck asked.

"Yes!" Mr Schuester replied, "But also to have fun with our friends,"

**. . .**

"Quinn!"

She turned slightly as Ms Pillsbury came running down the hall, she was still wearing the same polka dotted sweater she'd had on last week. When she caught up to her, she leant against the lockers again, slightly out of breath.

"Well it's good to see I'm a counselor not a gym coach," she smiled.

Quinn smirked slightly, "You'd adapt I'm sure,"

"Oh but the mud," she winced slightly, "Anyway!" she said, "I was just seeing how you were, being back at school and everything,"

Quinn shrugged, what could she say? There was nothing to it really, "Life does on doesn't it?" she replied.

Perhaps time is a disease that twists its way like a vine around our very being, it's impossible to cut loose, because it just keeps going. Even if sometimes we so badly want it to stand still, it never will.

"I suppose you're gearing up for sectionals then?" she asked, studying her a moment.

"As best I can I guess,"

"Are you okay with Shelby coming and well… picking a few of your members,"

Quinn grinned, "Rachel?"

"Complete meltdown," she sighed, "Honestly my little pamphlets weren't enough this time, she was so distraught,"

Quinn shrugged, "She just thinks its an attack against us, not what it really is, and that's Santana wanting a little bit of exposure for her future,"

Ms Pillsbury looked at her, "You know Quinn, I think you might be growing up,"

"High School isn't forever," she replied, "You need to do what is right by you, I can see where Santana is coming from that's all," she paused a moment, "Mr Schuester not so much,"

Emma seemed interested, "Really?"

"He snapped at them earlier," Quinn said shrugging, "I think he feels like Shelby is taking away his talent,"

"Well she did take Brittany one of your best dancers, and Santana and Mercedes are power house voices, and then that other little one…" Emma paused, "Well she's cute I supposed,"

Quinn smirked, "They'll come back,"

She frowned, "What makes you so sure?"

Quinn shrugged, closing her locker door and waving at Mike as he rounded the corner, "They've been holding on for too long, they just need to spread their wings a little to realize they can't let go,"

Emma exhaled heavily, "Well I'm not so sure what Shelby's intentions are at this school, but if anything she needs to stop pulling Rachel aside all the time, its concerning, the girl has enough to deal with,"

Quinn's ears started burning, "What do you mean pulling her aside?"

Emma suddenly went bright red, "Oh gosh I should not have said that,"

"Ms Pillsbury," Quinn asked.

"I'm going to lose my job one day," she muttered, "Forget I said anything!"

Before Quinn had a chance to question her, she took off down the corridor muttering something to herself.

"She's always so nervous," Mike said coming up beside her, "What she want?"

Quinn sighed, "It's more what she didn't tell me,"

He frowned, "Did she give you the math's homework answers?"

She smirked, "I wish," and she straightened the textbooks in her arms, "I won't be doing math's anyway, I need to write a letter to Rach,"

Mike grinned, "And I need to play angry birds," he placed his arm around Quinn's shoulder, "I'll miss this when High School's over Q,"

She laughed as he waltzed her down the hall towards their classroom.

**. . .**

_Hey Baby,_

_I know you've ben tiptoeing around me these past few weeks because of Pop, but why would you ever feel as though you couldn't come to me? I know about Shelby, or at least, I know you've been spending a lot of time with her. Smalls, stop being so secretive, I thought we said we were going to share more? Just talk to me okay. I'm here for you, the same way you're here for me…_

She had pinned the note to Rachel's locker just before lunch break, and now Rachel was crying into her arms on the bleachers.

"Shhh," Quinn said softly, and she began to rub slow circles across Rachel's back.

"I tried to keep it all in," she said crying into her chest, "Because of Pop and you are so hurt Quinn, oh god…"

Quinn felt Rachel's hand slide across her chest and press into the place where your heart is beating beneath the skin.

"It still hurts doesn't it?"

Quinn nodded, "Not right now though,"

Rachel tilted her head.

"It doesn't hurt right now because your hand is over it. Protecting it. You fix me smalls, why won't you let me do the same for you?"

Rachel cried even harder, "I don't know what to think, she wants to spend so much time with me one minute and says how she regrets everything and the next day she won't even look at me,"

Quinn was trying so hard not to be angry. She couldn't let this intense hatred for Shelby that had been growing, boil over and stop her from soothing Rachel.

"Smalls listen to me," Quinn whispered, pulling her upright, "Everything's going to okay,"

"You don't know that," Rachel murmured.

"You're right," she sighed, "I don't. But even if it's not okay, you have me, we can be not okay together,"

Rachel smiled lightly, "I still get so confused sometimes,"

Quinn frowned, "About what,"

"About you being here as my friend, or as something more, or as… I don't know,"

"I'm just here," she shrugged lightly, "Whatever you want me to be, just know that I'm _here_ okay,"

Rachel nodded, allowing Quinn to gently wipe the tears from under her eyes, before she curled into her again.

**. . .**

"Evans!" Quinn called, as she spotted the mop of golden hair, as it bobbed through the school crowds.

Sam spun around at his name, "Argh matey," he said, "What ye be wantin?"

Quinn cocked an eyebrow, "Not pirate Sam that's for sure,"

He grinned and shrugged, "Lighten up?"

"I need you help," she said, "You're dashing and young are you not?"

He squinted his eyes, "And you're dating a girl aren't you not?"

Quinn sighed, "I need you to help me get rid of Ms Corcoran,"

This made him double take, "You want me to what?"

"Look she's making things difficult for Rachel, so I figured, if we can remove her from this school, then maybe Rachel will be less stressed,"

"And where do I fit into this plan?"

She smiled, "Because you're going to seduce her!"

Sam snorted, "Someone said you weren't crazy anymore…"

Quinn sighed, "Yeah I'm still crazy…crazy in love with Rachel, I don't want her getting hurt anymore,"

"Quinn," he said shaking his head, "You seem cool, and I like you, but if you get rid of Ms Corcoran you'll probably eliminate the Troubletons, and well, I think San and Cedes and the girls really like it,"

Jesus Christ she hadn't though about that.

"Yes but I want her gone,"

"We don't always get what we want you know,"

"Yes but…"

He held up his hand to silence her, "You know that song "Jack and Diane" by John Mellencamp?"

Quinn gulped, "I know you're really excited about joining Glee Club but please don't sing,"

He grinned, "No, no, there's a lyric in the song and it says _hold onto 16 as long as you can_,"

Quinn looked back at him.

"I think what the song is trying to say, is that you need to try and be young while you can," he smiled, "Don't buy into so much adult stuff right now Quinn," he shrugged lightly, "Every thing Rachel is going through, well, she'll get passed it. I'm sure you made mistakes when you were 16… why do you want to punish Ms Corcoran for hers?"

He boy scout honored her for some unknown reason before taking off through the corridors again, fitting into the crowds as though he'd gone to this school since the beginning.

The movie quoting, strange, blonde haired boy was right. It killed her a little bit.

* * *

><p>"You guys Ready?" Mr Schuester grinned.<p>

Quinn was so nervous she thought she was going to throw up. She had danced around to Jackson Five in her bedroom so many times. God just last week Kurt was trying to moonwalk across her carpet, but this was different. This time she had some spotlight to deal with. It scared the hell out of her.

"We're pumped," Puck shouted, adjusting his tie.

Finn looked puzzled for a moment, "It's weird competing against the girls,"

"We're gonna kick their ass!" Artie smiled.

"Now, now" Tina reminded, "They're our friends,"

"Let's just focus okay," Rachel said softly and Quinn knew she was a mess inside. She was probably having that little Berry war, on whether she was supposed to feel competitive towards her friends.

"Rachel is right as always," Mr Schuester smiled, "Focus and we can't lose,"

Quinn felt a body beside her and she knew it was Kurt.

"You know," he mused, "I have a feeling that clown judge is going mark us down,"

Quinn frowned, "And what makes you say that?"

Kurt shrugged, "He doesn't even look like he can count to ten, let alone his _ABC's"_

Quinn couldn't help but laugh, as she wrapped him up into a hug.

**. . .**

They'd performed perfectly. They'd hit every note and every move. And then the Troubletons had done the same thing. And in all performances they had each stood up for each other and cheered each other on. Because that's just what friend's do. Quinn wanted so badly to continue to congratulate the girls on an amazing performance, but she needed to find Shelby in the intermission. She had to confront her. She moved away from Mike and Tina quietly, as they stared at the Unitards climbing on stage. As she slipped into the aisles she heard Kurt whispered to Blaine, "See now those are costumes,"

Making her way into the school, she crept around the corridors, knowing Shelby would be hidden in her classroom avoiding Mr Schuester. She walked directly to the open door and knocked twice.

Shelby looked up from where she was scribbling notes on a paper.

"Quinn?" she said and she sounded surprised.

"Can I speak to you?

She frowned a moment, "You know you should be watching your fellow competitors,"

"Doesn't that apply to you too?"

She smirked lightly, "Rachel's always said you had a quick way with responses,"

Quinn stared at her, "What are you doing in here, why aren't you with the Troubletones?"

She sighed lightly, placing down her pen, "I was just grading some more papers, the girls are fine, I will make my way back when the placements are being called," she narrowed her eyes, "I'm a teacher Quinn, I'm allowed at the school after hours, why did you come looking for me?"

"I want you to stay away from Rachel,"

Shelby's eyebrows raised instantly, "Wow Quinn, not the comment I was expecting,"

"You're not good for her right now,"

"And what makes you say that?"

"She's stressed and worried about what her Dads would think, and you constantly trying to play the mother card is making it worse, I know the real reason you enlisted here,"

Shelby bit her tongue, "Quinn listen,"

"No it's not fair," she argued, "You set up this other Glee club and promise to get the girls noticed by Julliard scouts, and the whole time its all because you just want to get close to Rachel,"

"Quinn just because I am trying to reach out to my daughter does not mean I don't have the best interests of my other students at heart,"

"You're lying," she replied angrily, "You don't care what happens to them, you're just interested in trying to fix what you broke in the first place,"

"Watch your tongue," she snapped, "You have no right to speak to me like that,"

"I'm an adult," she responded, "I can do whatever I want,"

"You know that's so easy for you to say that when you're young," she said softly, "Because let's face it Quinn you're not an adult yet,"

"Yes I am!" she replied hotly, "I know more about myself than you do,"

Shelby smiled weakly, "I was the same way at your age. Thinking I had the world at my feet. But you grow up Quinn, you grow up and you realize that even when you're suppose to be an adult you still can't seem to grasp a complete handle on things,"

"You shouldn't have come to this school," she said, "You should have stayed away. Rachel was fine, she was fine before you came and started making her question things,"

"You're so young, pretty," Shelby said staring at her.

Quinn's cheeks flamed "DON'T talk down to me!"

"It goes away you know," she replied, "Not the pretty, you'll always be pretty,"

Quinn shook her head at her, not understanding.

"But the young," she continued, "It happens really slow and you don't even notice it. And then one day, everything just feels, different,"

"I can't wait to feel different," Quinn responded, "To feel in control of what happens around me,"

Shelby smiled, "Don't wish away your life," she murmured, "You're exactly where you're supposed to be Quinn,"

She stared at Shelby. For the life of her she just wanted to scream at the woman. To tell her that she was wrong and to tell her that she had no idea what any of them were feeling. But part of her knew she was right. Maybe being young means we all think we're invincible. Maybe we all think that nothing can possibly hurt us, and everything we do in our lives is disposable. We go through time and motions like we're on a racetrack, everything just gets crumpled like paper and tossed away as we try to move as fast as we can through the days. What are we searching for though? Our big plans? Our perfect match, our dreams or the things that complete us? When you're looking back you want it to have mattered don't you?

Sometimes adults do know what they're talking about. They've been through it all haven't they? We're young and we think we can just toss aside the things we don't like and leave people behind. But if we really knew what the hell we were doing, we'd realize that places, things and people, have a funny habit of always coming back.

"What are you going to do five years from now Quinn?" Shelby said, "Are you still going to be in love with Rachel?"

Quinn stared at her, "I'll always love Rachel,"

"I didn't ask if you'll always love her," she said, "I asked if you will still be with her,"

She couldn't quite understand why she was testing her like this, was she trying to see if she was good enough for her daughter? She had no right though. Rachel was Leroy and Hiram's daughter. They were the ones who had helped Quinn to heal, they were the ones who would always send text messages and forget to make spaces because they couldn't use an iPhone. So the messages wound up reading '_'_

"I'll always want Rachel" she replied, "Even if I'm not with her, I'll always want her, so if five years from now I'm not with her, I sure as hell will be finding a way back to her," she answered softly.

"But how do you know Quinn?"

It never ends does it? No matter how young or old you are, or what stage of life you're in, that question will always rear its head. How do you know if this is your person? How do you know if this is the one person you want to be with your whole life? Well it's easy enough. It's not spelt out like the alphabet; it's not a flashing street sign that grabs you attention. It's smaller than that, its what you feel, if you pay attention. You just know because…

You'll see them in everything. Suddenly the sun reflecting off your windshield glows the same way as their smile. The apple you're about to eat is as pink as their lips that you want to kiss over and over again. The supermarket reminds you of that Sunday morning they tried to make you pancakes and got flour all over the floor. The blanket at the foot of your bed suddenly becomes them when they're not there, and every single time, it's not nearly warm enough.

Their eyes become galaxies you get lost in. You think they're the funniest, smartest, most beautiful person you have ever met. They drive you crazy in the best way.

The noises they make in their sleep suddenly become the same noises you dream about. They have three separate laughs. One when they are mocking someone, one when someone has made a joke they find hilarious and the other, is when they are just laughing with you.

You just want to touch them. All the time. You're always drunk on them. Suddenly their body becomes a map, a diagram, a place to create pathways with your own fingertips. You'll treat this as a delicate right of passage, as though someone is letting you touch gold. You're an artist who wants to draw across their canvas. You're a scientist who wants to invent new ways to hear them softly moan in your ear. You're an explorer who wants to discover all the places you're body fits with theirs.

You don't want to go to sleep unless they've said goodnight. You'll even wait up all night for that message. It'll come right when you think it won't. "_I knew you were waiting, I love you_"

Their morning voice is the best sound in the world. The way they pretend to be so mad at you for waking them, but you can tell they're smiling. When they fold into you. When they hang off every word you say. When they ask you questions because suddenly you've become an encyclopedia. Then they tease you for being a know-it-all when really they probably already knew the answers themselves.

You smell them everywhere. In your bed sheets, on your clothes, as soon as they walk into the room. They smell like pine oak in the spring, like firewood in the winter, like the smell of rain on a summer night. You want to be surrounded by it, because you've never smelt anything so sweet, so alive, it makes you feel safer.

You search for them in a crowded room. You miss them after five minutes. You want them to call first, but they want you to call first and then you end up calling anyway. Then you argue about it. Then you laugh about it. Then they hang up and call you back. "_See baby, I did call you_,"

The way they look at you. The way they spell and say your name.

You study them. It's almost like over time you develop a degree in them. You know their coffee order, you know what days they do laundry because they'll call you to borrow clothes. You know their favourite colours, what makes them laugh, what they think is stupid, what turns them on, what books they'll read, what movies they'll pick, everything they hate about themselves you'll love even more. Yet you'll still feel as though there are a million more things you can learn.

You look forward to the holidays even more. You want to buy that silly little love bear on Valentines Day. You want them to try your Mum's turkey on Thanksgiving because you swear it's the best. You want to pick a Christmas tree, dust it with snow, and tell them that their smile is brighter than the star that sits on top.

You want to see the world with them. You want to watch them squirm in France as you force them to taste snails and frog legs. But then watch them fall in love with you all over again under the Eiffel tower. You want to hire a sailboat in Greece and tell them they have to navigate to the next island. You want to throw coin in the Trevi Fountain in Rome and have them turn to you and say, "_I don't mind if the wish doesn't come true. I already found you_". You want to explore Disneyland with them, buy those silly matching ears and refuse to wear them until they beg you.

No one has ever looked as sexy in your clothes as they do. You slowly start to notice your singlets, your hoodies and your snapbacks disappearing. Sometimes they'll be returned and other times you'll see them curled over their desk chair. You pretend there's a thief taking your clothes, when really you just wish they would go everywhere wearing nothing but your shirt.

When they tell you driving stick shift turns them on, you go and rent one just to show them. It turns out they're better at it then you. You'll sulk for ten minutes until they drag you onto the backseat and kiss you until the sun does down, and the whole time they'll be asking if you can keep the car.

You want to make things for them. In your head you cringe because it's sappy and corny but you don't care. You'll sit for hours writing letters, writing songs, making a stupid little bracelet out of paper just so you can give it to them and say, '_Hey you, I love you_'. They'll never take it off.

You change the wallpaper on your phone to a photo of you both kissing. Then you change it back again because you think you're being over the top. But you still go into your pictures to look at it. Then suddenly they're calling and you'd forgotten you had already assigned that same photo as their caller ID. You'll answer all worked up over a damn photo and all you hear is, "_I can't wait to kiss you again today_,"

Suddenly whip cream takes a whole new meaning. Like that night you sat in the kitchen until 3AM as they smeared it across your face and kissed it off. You were both laughing the whole time.

You think about the future. Marrying them. It scares you. It excites you. You don't know whether to think about it but you can't help it. You think about whether you'll get a cat or dog first. They want a cat, but you want the dog and in the end you know you'll get that damn cat first. Then one night they come over holding their hands behind their back. _"What are you doing,"_ you'll say.

They'll hand you a small stuffed dog from target and grin, _"Baby I got us a puppy"_

It's never enough. You always just want more. Longer kisses. Longer hugs. Making love longer. More hours with them. You'll drive around the block five times just to keep them longer. Everything is anther story to the bookshelf you're building. You put them first. Their happiness is more important. You learn to love what they love.

You want to be better. Because they've made _you_ better.

Quinn cleared her throat a moment, "I just know," she said, and she turned on her heel, leaving Shelby standing alone in her classroom.

**. . .**

They'd won.

As the New Directions bounced around her. Quinn couldn't help but see the Troubletones standing in the dark. Their heads bowed, glaring at the floor of the auditorium. No face stood out quite like Santana's, who as she linked her fingers though Brittany's, tried to hide a small tear running down the side of her face. Quinn could see what could only have been Julliard scouts, rise from the seats across the stage, whisper something into Shelby's ear and then walk away. The entire time she was watching this, Quinn wanted nothing more, than to hand the trophy to Santana.

**. . .**

"Alright ladies. Girl talk."

Santana turned immediately, as Quinn walked into the bathrooms.

"Q," she said sighing, "Can we not stage an intervention just yet, our pride was a little wounded,"

"Not to mentioned I'm still annoyed with Schuester,"

"He's done a lot for you," Quinn replied, looking at Mercedes, "Did you ever think maybe _his_ pride was wounded? Maybe he felt betrayed that you wanted to leave New Directions?"

"We just wanted to try something different," Brittany shrugged, "We wanted to be noticed,"

"You ARE noticed," Quinn said, "I notice you, god I can't live without you girls,"

"Yes but Blaine…"

"Is adorable," Quinn interrupted, "And Kurt is so in love with him. He's stressing out thinking you girls don't like him. He's refusing to do solo's until you come back,"

Mercedes laughed lightly, "God he's so similar to Kurt,"

"Well yeah," Santana responded, "They're both as gay as Kristen Stewart,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "San," she said, "This is all because you want Julliard scouts to notice you is it not?"

She nodded, "To be noticed you need to stand out from a crowd," she said, "How can we do that if we're just in the background,"

"What if you're not though," Quinn smiled, "What if a certain girl I love is so distraught thinking she could be the reason that your dreams fail, she wanted to give up hers for you,"

Quinn could see the way Santana melted, "No Quinn, I was never mad at Berrybox, I just wanted…"

"Spotlight," Brittany smiled, "We all do,"

"They have nice materials there…" Sugar smiled and it took Quinn a moment to realize she thought they'd been talking about the craft store.

"Because it feels good," Mercedes said igorning Sugar, "It feels good to shine,"

"And you do,"Quinn said softly, "I see you shine every single day. And I told Mr Schuester that he has to give you centre stage more. Because we all have dreams and those dreams are sometimes similar and sometimes different, but they're important,"

"You think he'll agree,"

Quinn grinned, "He already did,"

They frowned at her, "The Toubletones get solos every time we perform," Quinn said.

Santana smirked, "You sure you don't want to be the next president Quinn Fabray?"

She laughed, "Sometimes I'm still not so sure what I want, but if there's one thing I've learnt, it's that… well, that's okay,"

She moved closer to them, "So you know what growing up is about? Losing things. In six months, we'll all be gone, scattered,"

Mercedes shrugged, "We'll keep in touch,"

"Yeah but it won't be the same," she reasoned, "When we see each other, it'll be a special occasion,"

"Weddings," Santana smirked nudging Brittany.

"Bachelorette dance parties!" she said nudging her back.

Quinn smirked, "It'll still be different though. I don't want to grow up just yet. I'm not ready to lose you girls,"

"Quinn you'll never lose us," Santana responded.

"You have to learn not to say that," she replied, "Because we can never justify it. Time changes us. Places get in the way, distance is created, and then we go through our lives trying to manage ourselves,"

"You're making it sound depressing," Mercedes sighed.

"No I'm just giving you a reality check," she answered lightly, "And then hopefully when all is said and done, we find our way back to each other, maybe not psychically, but at least in the memories we created while we were still together,"

They were staring at her now. She had their complete attention so she pressed on.

"Look I know I went a little crazy. I know it took me a while to accept what was happening around me. But I promise I'm here now. I'm young, I have the rest of my life in front of me. I love Glee Club. I LOVE YOU GIRLS! And when we're 27 or 87, I want us to be able to look back on these next couple of months, and talk about how it was the best times of our lives. We can't do that if we're not all together right?"

Santana reached out and grabbed her arm, "Since when did you develop a way with words?"

"I think she's always had them," Brittany smiled.

"We _are_ young aren't we," Mercedes said grinning.

Quinn nodded, "We're young and we're alive!"

**. . .**

Don't be afraid to be young. If you're hurting, if you're in pain, if you feel like those walls you built are crashing down around you. That's okay. You want to know why? Because life isn't the same three weeks from now, three months from now, or five years from now. You're changing, the world is changing, and so are your feelings. Don't be so scared of it. Just try to take the days as they come. Live in the moments you are living in right now.

Wherever you are right now, whatever you're doing, you're meant to. It's all the way it is, because it's supposed to be.

Quinn glanced over at Sam, who strummed the guitar in his hands lightly, as Puck kept in with his tune.

"Boys," she called, "Play a song for me?"

Puck nodded, "Anything Q,"

She stood up from where she had been curled around Rachel, and strolled over to Sam. She leant in his ear and whispered what she thought the Glee club needed to here.

She then waited until he began strumming, and like always, Rachel knew what lyrics needed to be sung.

_Give me a second, I need to get my story straight_

_My friends are in the bathroom_

_Getting higher than the Empire State,_

_My lover…_

She smiled at Quinn,

"_She's waiting for me,_

_Just across the bar_

_My Seat's been taken by some sunglasses_

_Asking 'bout a scar_

Quinn pulled Rachel closer to her, soaking her in,

_I know I gave it to you months ago_

_I know you're trying to forget_

_But between the drinks and subtle things_

_The holes in my apologies_

_You know, I'm trying to take it back,_

Sam stood up on the auditorium stage to join the circle that the New Directions were sitting in, "_So if by the time the bar closes, and you feel like falling down," he looked at Quinn and smiled, "I'll carry you home_,"

_Tonight_

_We are young_

_So let's set the world on fire_

_We can burn brighter than the sun_

There was a movement from the side stage door and Quinn looked to see exactly who was meant to be here as well. Santana, Brittany, Mercedes and Sugar walked towards them.

_Tonight_

_We are young_

_So let's set the world on fire_

_We can burn brighter than the sun_

Santana looked at Quinn directly,

_Now I know that I'm not_

_All that you got_

_I guess that I_

_I just thought_

_Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart_

Quinn felt Rachel leave her side and make her way tentatively towards her,

_But our friends are back_

_So let's raise a cup_

_Cause I found someone to carry me home_

She held out her hand to Santana, who took it immediately and allowed Rachel to drag her into the circle,

_The world is one my side._

_I have no reason to Run_

They all looped together. To find that unity they had shared since the very beginning, with old faces and new faces, but nonetheless young faces, holding onto being young.

Hold onto it. It'll fade eventually and all you'll have are the memories you made while you were living in those moments.

_Tonight_

_We are young_

_So let's set the world on fire_

_We can burn brighter than the sun_

You are young. You do set the world on fire. Just wait. You'll burn brighter than the sun.

* * *

><p>Little Readers,<p>

I do try to get back to all of you!

anything you want to say or talk about...

itsonlyyforever (tumblr)

belikecourtney (twitter)

thelittlereaders (at) hotmail (.) com

I'm all ears!

All my love always (and also HA... australia got hunger games first :P WINNING!)


	41. Chapter 40

Little Readers,

I received an email a few weeks ago that blew me away.

So I will keep this note simple.

Chloe from Ireland, this chapter is dedicated to you. I hope you find that sparkle that comes with Christmas again. All my love, to you and your kind soul!

Court x

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 40<strong>

_Perhaps we're like snowflakes, we melt away in the sun_

Senior Year

* * *

><p>What's your favourite thing about Christmas?<p>

Is it the way the shops all decorate the front windows in their stores? How sometimes the town council will hang lights in the trees or mount giant Santa's on the rooftops. You wake up and your Mum has made fresh Christmas shaped cookies, or your Dad sneaks home pudding in the night time?

It feels good though doesn't it? People seem happier, nicer, they smile at you when you bring the Christmas decorations to the cashier. They ask you what your plans are for the holidays. They hold their umbrellas over your head if the snow starts to fall. People open doors, people give their cabs up for you, people laugh at your Christmas jokes. Every store you walk out of says goodbye with '_happy holidays_'. There are carols playing through the town speakers, there are messages written across frosted car windows, and tinsel caught in street sweepers.

Amongst all the hype, and the Christmas wishes, and then running to get the Christmas ham at the last minute, there is also the part of the holidays, that remind us of the things we've tried all year to forget. The part where it reminds us of the people we've lost, of the friends that left, and the things we may have missed out on.

Where do you spend Christmas? Are you home or away? Are you travelling? Are you sitting in a bar with strangers watching Scrooge, are you sleeping in the middle of your parents listening to the carols on TV, are you drinking margaritas with the friends you've had since high school, are you decorating Christmas cakes with your children, are you exchanging gifts with loved ones or kissing the one you love under mistletoe? Well however way you spend the holidays, don't forget, that even if sometimes things weigh heavy on our hearts, there are always people out there, who are hoping you have a most wonderful holiday.

When Quinn had been younger, there had been a Christmas where she had been arguing with Frannie over what to put on her Santa list. Her grandfather had separated them both for twenty minutes, because their bickering had been giving him a headache. As Quinn huffed in the corner, he had knelt down beside her and asked why she was getting so mad over something so silly. She had replied it was because she wanted a new camera so badly. Her Pop had looked at her then, he had said that there were many children just like her that wouldn't get what they wanted for Christmas. He said that some of them might not even get any food to have, let alone present's. Quinn had been shocked, she had asked what on earth could she possibly do to rectify that. It was the fist time her grandfather had shown any sort of religious faith. He had taken her hand, and he had said,

"_Well, you pray Quinnie. You pray that people less fortunate will have a little bit of relief,"_

Quinn had stared at him for a while, she had then asked, that if everyone did that wouldn't the lord get a little bit frustrated, "_Who says thanks to him Pop?"_ she had asked.

Her grandfather had smiled and told her a story.

There was a small tale, he had heard about from his travels through London, years ago. About father John, the vicar in St Paul's church. The day after Christmas he had been looking at the nativity scene and realized that the baby Jesus was missing. Panicked he had decided to call the police, but just as he was about to make the call, he caught sight of a small boy, by the name of Nathan who visited the church with his parents every Sunday. Sure enough there was Nathan, with a red wagon, and inside the wagon was the figure of the baby Jesus.

_"Nathan,"_ father John had asked him, _"Where did you get the baby Jesus?"_

Nathan had looked and smiled, _"From the church,"_ he had replied.

_"And why would you take him?"_

Nathan looked at the vicar with great big eyes, _"Well father, I prayed to lord Jesus the other week. I said if he brought me a red wagon, I would give him a ride around the block to thank him,"_

Quinn had never forgotten that story. It reminded her every year to be thankful. To count her blessings. To remember that even if sometimes she felt like she had nothing, there were people in the world worse off, and it was up to her, to pray that maybe one day, they could have the things she had as well.

She missed her grandfather, she missed the way he would show up to every Christmas lunch wearing a Christmas tie. She missed the way he would sprinkle dusted snowflakes in her hair after dessert, how he insisted she always looked prettier than the lights on their balcony, and how he would sit her down after dinner and ask to hear about the stars.

_"Tell me Quinnie,"_ he would say, _"The greatest star of all, tell me the story behind it,"_

And she would sit for the next hour, talking about how the star of Nazareth led the three wise men to baby Jesus in the stable. Then they would talk about creating a high powered sleigh, about how her Dad looked more like Santa every year, and in recent years, how he wanted to turn Kurt into an elf and put him on display.

Her grandfather brought the joy, and now she was just trying to figure out how to find the same joy he had always brought.

"I don't know what to get Blaine for Christmas,"

Quinn stopped staring at the small little train revolving around the Christmas tree. She swore the Lima mall Christmas decorations got more intense as the years went on.

Kurt looked distraught.

"Well what do you want to get him?" Quinn asked, smirking at his worried little face.

"Something that says, hey I love you, but I don't want to be so over the top that he gets all oh what did you do this for blah blah…"

"I still think you should dress up in santa lingerie," Santana mused, shaking a snow globe that was sitting on the shelf beside them.

He rolled his eyes, "Just because that's your present for Brittany,"

She grinned, "That's not the only thing I'm giving her,"

"What are you going to do, put on a little red nose as well and ask to ride her sleigh?" Quinn asked, trying so hard to keep a serious face.

"Can we please get back to Blaine," Kurt insisted.

"Oh Kurtis," Santana sighed, "He loves you. Why don't you just add to his bow tie collection?"

Quinn snorted, "Please, I think his parents help that collection every year,"

Kurt groaned, "You two are suppose to be helping!"

"Well maybe if we had of picked somewhere else to shop!"

"Lima mall is fine," Quinn responded, "It's got plenty of shops,"

"Too many," Kurt replied, "The choices then become more difficult,"

"No the choices are difficult because you're making such a big deal about it,"

"Well what are you getting Rachel?" he shot back, "Miss I may as well be Santa?"

Quinn sighed, he'd got her. "I haven't decided yet," she replied, folding her arms.

"And they say the gay can shop," Santana sighed.

* * *

><p>"It's Christmas time!" Mr Schuester grinned, sidestepping around Kurt who had been struggling with a box of bell balls.<p>

"Way to state the obvious Mr Schue," Santana responded eyeing him up and down.

"What?" Will shrugged, "You don't like the antlers?"

"Or the over the top sweater," Kurt sighed, placing the box on the piano.

"Oh leave him be," Blaine grinned moving towards him, "He's just just celebrating,"

"Thank you Blaine!" he smiled, "At least someone is in the spirit!"

"Don't mind Kurt," Rachel said, hopping over to the box to sift through some more decorations, "He's just nervous about the Glee Christmas Special,"

Kurt eyed her, "Says the one who has been practicing every day since the crack of dawn,"

Rachel stared at him briefly, biting her tongue.

"All of you calm down," Quinn sighed, throwing her school bag in the corner, it was nice of Ms Pillsbury to ask how she was feeling this time of year, but having the fact this was her first christmas without her grandfather brought to her attention in a small '_Quinn I know this a difficult time',_ was the last thing she needed to hear.

"We have more pressing issues,"

"Like what?" Puck asked grinning as he side swiped Rachel and made her drop and ball balls.

She scowled as he picked them up and began juggling them in front of her.

"Like the fact we need to start todays lesson with a song," Quinn smirked.

Mr Schuester grinned, "Exactly what I was thinking!"

"I'm thinking we've all turned into the most cheesiest group of people on the entire planet," Santana sighed.

"You love it," Kurt called and she rolled her eyes.

"Not love, wants it," Mercedes smiled walking over to Quinn and nudging her. "I have the perfect start,"

Quinn nodded at her, "I think this tree needs some music to finish off the decorations,"

Before she had even indicated what song Mercedes wanted to sing, Brad had already started the music.

_There's just one thing I need_

_I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree_

_I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

_Make my wish come true_

_All I want for Christmas is..._  
><em>You<em>

Quinn was staring at Rachel as she danced around with Kurt and Blaine. Maybe this Christmas she would get her back for good. She really did not want or need anything else.

_I don't want a lot for Christmas_

_There's just one thing I need_

_I don't care about the presents_

_Underneath the Christmas tree_

_I don't need to hang my stocking_

_There upon the fireplace_

_Santa Claus won't make me happy_

_With a toy on Christmas day_

_I just want you for my own_

_More than you could ever know_

_Make my wish come true_

_All I want for Christmas is you_

_You baby_

Santana grabbed some tinsel from the box and placed it around Brittanys neck pulling her towards her. This is what Christmas was all about wasn't it? Spending it with the people you love most.

_I won't ask for much this Christmas_

_I don't even wish for snow_

_I'm just gonna keep on waiting_

_Underneath the mistletoe_

_I won't make a list and send it_

_To the North Pole for Saint Nick_

_I won't even stay awake to_

_Hear those magic reindeers click_

_'Cause I just want you here tonight_

_Holding on to me so tight_

_What more can I do_

_Baby all I want for Christmas is you_

_Ooh baby_

_All the lights are shining_

_So brightly everywhere_

_And the sound of children's_

_Laughter fills the air_

_And everyone is singing_

_I hear those sleigh bells ringing_

_Santa won't you bring me the one I really need_

_Won't you please bring my baby to me..._

What do you wish for on chrsitmas? Toys, cars, love, food, clothes? More important do you ask every Christmas, or do you thank? What are you thankful for?

Oh I don't want a lot for Christmas

This is all I'm asking for

I just want to see my baby

Standing right outside my door

Oh I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

Baby all I want for Christmas is...

You

The New Directions had sung the song and the entire room had been decorated. All it had taken was some music, their voices and the Choir room had never looked better.

"I thought I could hear canaries dying,"

Quinn bit her lip as they all stopped short of themselves to see that Sue had made herself present.

"Come on Sue, its Christmas," Mr Schuester said as he opened his arms.

Sue looked at him as though she either had no idea what a hug looked like or whether a hug for him would be the worst thing that could happen.

"I know its Christmas, that's why I'm here,"

Mr Schuester frowned, "I'm a little confused,"

"I need recruits," she said, "For all of you to sing at the homeless shelter I will be volunteering at,"

The glee club turned remarkably silent.

"That's really nice of you Ms Sylvester," Tina said quietly, as she wrapped her arms around Mike's waist leaning into him.

"It's the least I can do," she replied, standing a little taller, "I just want to forget the fact my sister Jean isn't with me this year, and I think giving back will help me do that,"

"What do you want us to do?" Finn asked.

"Sing," Sue replied glaring at him as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Bring some cheer to their lives. I know there's some of you who have been through a lot this year, and be as you will, it might be nice to see that other people have done it a lot tougher,"

Quinn immediately felt Sue's eyes fall directly over her and it was all she could do not to draw Rachel into her. She wrapped her up in her arms and squeezed lightly, burying her face into the crook of her neck. Rachel seemed to smile at the gesture.

"We'll start making a playlist Ms Sylvester," Sam piped up and immediately everyone looked at him.

"I think it's a great idea," Will nodded.

"Settled then," Sue said, clapping her hands, "I'll pin the details to each of your lockers,"

"You know where our lockers are?" Santana responded.

"Yes I had Becky follow each other of you and mark which ones were the Glee Clubs for future reference,"

Brittany turned lightly, "So that wasn't _Pincha_ following me?"

Santana snorted with laughter.

"Whose _Pincha_?" Artie asked, one eye brow raised.

"I love you," Santana laughed, kissing her, "_Pincha_ doesn't exist, it was Britt's childhood friend,"

"But I thought…"

"Baby you kill my life," Santana cut her off and she wrapped the tinsel around her head, as Brittany fell into her.

"I trust you will rehearse all day," Sue said abruptly.

"All day," Puck moaned, "We can't rehearse all day!"

"I'll wave your detention for the rest of the week if you do," she replied and immediately his eyes lit up.

"Well guys I guess we're rehearsing all day!"

Finn and Artie rolled their eyes.

"I'll be back to check on you tomorrow," Sue said and with that she glared at Schuester one more time in his Christmas sweater and antlers before stomping from the room.

"Does anyone think she's the Grinch's twin?" Mike asked.

"Come on guys, this is a tough time for Ms Sylvester, be nice, and its good to help, its always good to help,"

"But what about the Glee spectacular?" Mercedes asked.

"That is still on," Mr Schuester assured them, "But we're the New Directions, we have multitasking down to a fine art!"

Kurt sighed, "Well tell me to dress up as an elf and I'm out,"

"Oh but I thought we agreed on that?" Blaine grinned.

Kurt blushed red.

"Let's get to work guys," Will said clapping his hands.

Quinn laughed lightly at how red Kurt still was, maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

><p>When you lose someone you love, you find that for all the holidays you have to deal with, like the first Christmas, or the first thanksgiving, without them, is always the hardest. It's almost like they just reinforce that they're not with you to celebrate anymore. Quinn knew the first Christmas without her Pop was going to be hard, she just didn't realize it would be <em>this<em> hard. Every year they had gone Christmas shopping together, decorated his tree, talked about carols to which Quinn had sung for him and then walked around the neighborhood admiring the lights that people had strung on their houses. This year, she didn't even want to do any of that knowing he wasn't here.

"Mum, can I borrow the car?"

Judy looked up from where she had been file noting on the kitchen counter, "Why what's wrong with yours?"

"Low on gas," Quinn shrugged.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," Quinn responded.

Judy sighed, "I miss him too," she said as though it was exactly what Quinn had been thinking. It had been.

She bit her lip, "It's weird knowing he won't be here, it feels surreal,"

Judy laughed lightly, "You know I passed the aisle in the supermarket yesterday, where they have all the Christmas goods stacked up, I took one look at the pudding which was his favourite and I burst into tears,"

"I see everyone around all happy and decorating and I just, I don't know Mom, I just don't feel like celebrating,"

"Oh sweetheart," Judy sighed, "He wouldn't want you to feel that way,"

"I know," she replied softly, "I just do I guess,"

"Keys are on the hook," Judy nodded, "Where are you going though,"

Quinn shrugged, "Helping Kurt buy an elf costume,"

Judy snorted, "Good grief, please tell me that is not for Blaine?"

She grinned, "I guess he got a little inventive with his Christmas present,"

"You getting Rachel anything?"

Quinn paused a moment, "I want to, but I don't want it to be something ordinary, I want it …" she trailed off.

"You want it to win her back,"

Quinn stared at her mother, "You know me a little bit don't you,"

"Well," she said waving her hands, "I did give birth to you or something, you know whatever,"

Quinn laughed, "What should I do?"

"I think you two are in a good place darling, I just think it needs something for that spark to be alive again," Judy eyed her, "and I think you know what that something is,"

Quinn squirmed, "Mom I can't just do it you know, I want to, but I want it to be right, otherwise I'm just going to hurt her again,"

"You mean kiss her don't you?"

"Yes," she sighed, "It's important to me now, I don't care if we've already been that close before, and gone way further than just…" she stopped a moment, smirking as her mother had flushed, "Sorry…"

"It's fine," Judy managed, "I'm just trying to ignore all the times I thought you were both studying when clearly it wasn't the maths that was being studied…"

Quinn smirked at her mother, "I want it to be different this time, I want to kiss Rachel and for her to realize that I won't ever stop,"

"Darling you can't promise that, you're so young…"

"Mum," she responded, "Just go with this,"

Judy shuffled the papers a moment, seemingly to gather her thoughts, "You need something to _do_ with Rachel, don't give her something from the mall or something that's just going to say oh here its Christmas have this, you know Kurt might be on to something…"

"Mother I am not dressing up as an elf…"

"I didn't say that," she argued, "I mean something that you can do with Rachel, something that will state to her how much this means to you, how much you want it to be about the both of you this time,"

Quinn's eyes glistened slightly, as an idea came to mind, "You know Mom I think you just solved my bad day, and my Christmas woes,"

Judy smiled pleased, "Good, now if only I could get your father to learn how to make the cranberry sauce properly and we'd have a nice lunch to look forward to,"

"I love you," Quinn said, "I don't say it enough but I really love you Mom,"

Judy tried to stop herself from choking up, "Oh sweetheart I love you more than life itself,"

"Oh by the way tomorrow I'm going to help out at the homeless shelter, cook some food, wrap some presents, I shouldn't be too late, we can watch some carols on TV?"

Her mother nodded, "That's wonderful of you Quinnie, I'll tell your father to get home too,"

Quinn kissed her mother's cheek lightly, before grabbing an apple and heading out towards the Lexus her mother owned. At least maybe she could pretend it was her new Christmas present. The world didn't have to know.

* * *

><p>"BRILLIANT!" Artie said, clapping his hands together, "Now who wants to dress up as Chewbacca?"<p>

"Chewbacca?" came Sue Sylvester's voice from the door, "You gleeks have really reached new heights, but I don't think the homeless shelter will be wanting star wars renditions, just Christmas carols," she said, "Nice ones," she added.

Artie glanced at her, "Actually Sue, we're rehearsing for a Christmas special the PBS station is running, Mr Schuester told me about this morning, we're hired!"

Quinn frowned immediately, "Wait what?"

Sue was already jumping down his throat, "You're meant to be coming to the homeless shelter this afternoon and tonight, to cook and to hand out presents?"

"We know," Finn said sheepishly, "But this is an awesome opportunity for us! And it's stars wars!"

"Okay I thought you guys were being hilarious and doing something creative for the shelter," Quinn said eyeing them all.

"I thought that's what we were rehearsing for too?" Sam said standing up.

"Evans is right," Quinn quipped, "Since when was this about the PBS station?"

"It's a wonderful opportunity to get showcased," Artie replied, "Especially considering I'm directing and I'm paying homage to both the Stars Wars holiday special and Judy Garland holiday special,"

"But this wasn't suppose to be about us," Sam replied folding his arms, "This was meant to be about helping others,"

"We can do that later," Puck brushed off.

"Yeah we'll be on TV!" Santana grinned.

Quinn shot a look at her, "You're all kidding right," she said, "You can't seriously tell me your going to walk away from people who have nothing, for a stupid spot in a TV special that no one watches?"

"Everyone in Lima watches it Quinn," Rachel said softly, "It'd be an amazing opportunity for us to showcase what we can do,"

Quinn stared at her, "Not you," she said, "Please tell me you're not agreeing with this,"

"Quinn I…"

She shook her head, "No way,"

"Little B, don't go jumping to conclusions," Kurt said moving towards her.

"Conclusions? Like the fact my best friends are all materialistic fifteen minutes of fame addicts?"

"Hey," Blaine said, "We're going to be bringing cheer to viewers you know,"

"I'm leaving before I say something I regret," Quinn replied through gritted teeth.

"I'm coming with you," Sam said, "Before I high five all of your faces with the back of a chair,"

He took on after Quinn as she stomped into the hall way. Sue was already half way down the corridor.

"Ms Sylvester wait up!" He called, "We want to help!"

"Quinn!"

Quinn spun slightly to see Rachel had followed her, "Quinn please would you just listen…"

"I had more faith in you," Quinn said angrily, "Maybe the others I could let slide, but not you…"

Rachel's eyes filled with tears, "Fives…"

"No," Quinn snapped, "Only the real Rachel gets to call me that, the one I'm in love with… I don't know what you did with her, but whoever you are I don't like you…"

With that she stormed away, leaving Rachel in the corridors, as she hurried to hitch a ride with Sam.

**. . .**

If someone had tried to describe what a homeless shelter was supposed to look like Quinn would have probably never believed them. It felt safe here. It felt like it was a place to come to when you felt lost. She guessed that's exactly the reason why it had been built. Quinn had arrived shortly with Sam, carrying boxes of gifts to wrap. She had spent an hour or so making food prep and then one by one people had begun to drift through the doors. They were all different, some were unshaven, and looked like they'd been sleeping on the streets for years. Others were well dressed, smiling, eager to start a conversation. But the one thing Quinn noticed in all of the people, even the ones that seemed the quietest, was they all had this manner about them. And even in their situation, they were still proud and defiant.

Now she stood at a table, as Sam stood beside her unloading gifts and helping her wrap them.

"I hope these things are what they need you know," she said, "I mean sure its nice to give them a teddy bear, but I hope they get what they need to survive,"

Sam smirked, "Sometimes something to cuddle at night is good too Q,"

"I guess you're right," she replied.

He glanced at her, "Everyone's been telling me you've had a rough year, but you seem pretty good to me,"

Quinn stopped tying a bow through the present she was wrapping, "I'm good now. I think I was just stuck on focusing on everything I didn't have and none of the stuff that was good you know,"

He nodded, "We get like that sometimes, something bad happens, and then suddenly everything else is bad too,"

"Like you stuck in a storm," she whispered.

"You're not though, as horrible as it is, there'll always be someone worse off than you," he looked around, "I mean look, these guys don't even have a home,"

Quinn bit her lip, "You were so quick to volunteer here Sam," she said, "Why?"

He shrugged slightly, handing her some more paper for wrapping, "My parents got into some financial problems a while ago, we're fine now, but back then it wasn't so good,"

Quinn looked to him in interest.

"We had to downsize our house and I changed from the private school into public school, eventually we wound up here and everything's been okay so far, but sometimes on the weekends I like to come here,"

She stopped wrapping for a moment, "Wait you've been here before?"

He grinned, "Yeah few times actually, I use to help out at the homeless shelters in my old town with a few buddies, it was nice,"

"Sam, I just…"

He laughed, "Don't be so shocked Quinn, I figured I could have been just like these guys here you know, all it takes is a few wrong turns,"

She thought on this a moment, about what he had just said, and he was completely right.

"The main thing I've learnt from coming here is that homeless people are real people with amazing experiences. Sometimes you just can't believe the reasons for them being homeless, and yeah sure its really heartbreaking but there are good stories, too, you know," he handed her another gift to wrap, this time is was some shirts and socks.

"When I came here in the beginning, there was a guy that kept saying that he had his name on a housing list and that he had a job as a road sweeper. I thought it was all talk and then he came along the other week and said that he was just coming to say goodbye cause he's got himself a place," Sam grinned, "It was just so cool you know, that he came back and told us, its amazing to see that kind of stuff happen,"

"Wow," Quinn replied, "Honestly Evans I don't even know what to say,"

"You don't have to say anything Quinn, it doesn't mean I'm any less of a saint than the next guy, I just care about this kind of stuff you know,"

"More people should," she responded.

Sam sighed, "I think you're cool Quinn. I'm glad you turned your life around. You really deserve good things you know,"

Quinn stared at him a moment, "I'm trying," she murmured, "But you know what, these people deserve good things too,"

Sam nodded, "Everyone does huh,"

She nodded, she just wished that the rest of her friends had looked at it the way Sam does.

Suddenly the door opened and Rachel walked in, covered in snowflakes and holding a box. Quinn stilled. Sure enough the rest of the New Directions were right behind her.

"Well," Sue called, storming over, "Guess its better late than never,"

"We're sorry," Santana said as she held onto Brittany's hand, "How can we help,"

Sue began to direct them all to doing different things, swiping Pucks hand away from the baked food sitting on a table.

Quinn looked at Sam, "Go," he smiled, "I've got this, go sort things out with your girlfriend would you or whatever she is right now, I feel like mrs and mrs Claus are at war and its not good,"

Quinn smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder before making her way towards Rachel.

She seemed squeamish at first, as though she was too guilty to even be in the same room.

"Hi," Quinn offered.

Rachel seemed to soften, "Hi," she replied.

"What's in the box?"

"The things I bought myself for Christmas," Rachel sighed, "Barbara merchandise, an iPod, some jewelry, things I really don't need,"

Quinn looked down, "I'm sorry I yelled at you,"

"You had every right to," Rachel shrugged.

"I know but I shouldn't have been so abrupt and harsh,"

"I was selfish," Rachel said quietly, "There is no other words to describe how selfish I was being,"

"It's okay smalls, I probably would have done the same thing,"

"No you wouldn't have," she responded, "You're amazing and kind and one day I hope to be exactly like you,"

"Rachel," Quinn sighed, god she wanted to kiss her so badly right now.

"Excuse me miss," came a small voice.

Quinn and Rachel looked down at a little girl who had made his way over to them.

"You're really pretty," she said staring at Rachel, "You look like a princess,"

Rachel laughed, "I think you look like a Queen!" she grinned bending down, "What's your name?"

"Jenny," she said quietly.

"Well Jenny what do you want for Christmas?"

The little girl shrugged, "I love music, but mostly I can only listen to it by walking into the mall and listening to the speakers, I wish I had something to play my music from,"

Rachel immediately gravitated towards her, "Do you mind Barbara Steinsand?"

Quinn grinned, "Smalls I doubt she knows who that is,"

Jenny beamed, "My Mumma use to play her all the time when she was cleaning out the old house we use to have, but now the housing commissions don't really play much music,"

Rachel grasped her chest, "My girl has good taste,"

Jenny frowned slightly unsure of where she was coming from.

"How about this," Rachel said digging into the box and finding the iPod. She handed it to her. "It's already loaded with Barbra tracks,"

Jenny seemed bewildered, "But this is an iPod!"

"Exactly, it will cater to all your music needs,"

"But I can't…"

"Yes you can," Rachel replied and she pulled on her hand and placed the iPod inside, "You deserve it,"

Quinn was falling apart at the seams.

"Thank you," Jenny said, "You just made this the best Christmas ever," she hugged Rachel immediately and it was all Quinn could do not to hug her as well.

As Jenny ran off to find her parents, Rachel stood and looked at Quinn.

"Thank you," Rachel smiled.

"For what?"

"For being you," she whispered, "You make me want to be a better person,"

Rachel leant into her, and kissed her cheek lightly, "And for that," she whispered in her ear, "I will always try to be the person that deserves you,"

Quinn didn't let go of her, she held onto her for a while, "You amaze me," she murmured.

Suddenly someone had started playing the guitar, and Quinn looked over to where the Glee Club had been handing presents out to the people at the shelter. Puck had started strumming, prompting Sam to grab his guitar which he had brought along.

Finn came up behind him, shrugging at Sam,

"_It's Christmas time,_

_there's no need to be afraid,_

_At Christmas time,_

_We let in light and we banish the shade,"_

Mercedes linked arms with him, _"And in our world of plenty, we can spread a smile of joy, throw your arms around the world, at Christmas time,"_

"I love this song," Rachel whispered and she knotted her fingers through Quinn's, _"But say a prayer,"_ she sung, _"Pray for the other ones, oh at Christmas time its hard, but when you're having fun,"_

Kurt and Blaine stepped out from behind the Christmas tree, _"There's a world outside your window and it's a world of dread and fear,"_

Artie and Brittany grinned, "W_here the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears,"_

The Glee Club came together, grinning at the people in front of them, people of all different races and ages, with all one common purpose, they just wanted to have a cheerful Christmas.

_And the Christmas bells that ring_

_Are the clanging chimes of doom_

_Well tonight thank God it's them_

_Instead of you_

_And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time_

_The greatest gift they'll get this year is life_

_Where nothing ever grows_

_No rain or rivers flow_

_Do they know it's Christmas time at all?_

_Here's to you_

_Raise a glass for everyone_

_Here's to them_

_Underneath that burning sun_

_D__o they know it's Christmas time at all?_

_Feed the world_

_Let them know it's Christmas time again_

You know maybe it takes certain points in the year to realize what we should everyday. And that is to be thankful. Be thankful for the things we do have, instead of the things we don't, because chances are there is always someone less fortunate than you.

"Come Christmas tree shopping with me tonight," Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear.

Rachel drew her attention away from where Mike and Brittany had started to teach some of the kids how to dougie.

"But Fives you already have a tree,"

"No I mean tree shopping for you too,"

Rachel frowned, "Okay, I definitely already have a tree, I'd already planned what one I wanted last year,"

"Smalls," Quinn laughed, shaking her, "That's not what I'm saying,"

Her eyes grew wide for a moment, "You mean go shopping for a tree of our own?"

"Yeah," Quinn smiled this is what she wanted to do for her, "We'll get a tree for you and me, we'll keep it in my room, and we'll decorate it,"

"Our very own Christmas tree?" Rachel murmured, "As in ours, to share, between you and me,"

Quinn nodded.

"Fives, you know I take Christmas tree shopping seriously,"

Quinn laughed, "I know. I took the night off,"

Rachel beamed, "You know how you said I amaze you?" she stepped closer to her, "You amaze me more,"

**. . .**

It had been a whole year since Quinn had visited the Christmas tree farm. Well naturally it should be, considering Christmas is really only once a year. But still, every time she came here, it just didn't seem to change. It still felt familiar, it still felt quaint and dusted with snow and wonderful.

It had been weighing on her mind the entire time Rachel had been wandering around searching for the perfect tree.

"This seems a little familiar don't you think?" Quinn asked softly, as Rachel stared at the tips of the Christmas tree.

"How do you mean?" she responded distracted.

"I mean there was a certain Christmas, where I kissed you for the first time,"

Quinn had just said it, sure it was meant to be a little bit smoother than this, and a little bit more romantic, but watching Rachel glow under the light from the lamppost was enough just to make Quinn want her more than she had ever.

Rachel stared at her, "Do you mean a certain Christmas where you attacked my lips and completely distracted me from tree shopping?"

Quinn smirked, "I vaguely remember you assaulting me back,"

"It was terrible," Rachel whispered stepping closer.

"How much did you hate it?" Quinn replied closing the space between them.

"The worst Christmas of my life,"

"This one could be worse," Quinn grinned leaning towards her.

Rachel was within inches, Quinn soaked in the familiar smell, the way she tasted, the look of her at this close proximity.

"Miss Berry!" Mr McDonald called, "Miss Berry your frosty flakes!"

"Not this time!" Rachel called continuing to stare at Quinn and ignoring Mr McDonald.

"Miss Berry?"

"He's not ruining my gay this time," Rachel grinned and Quinn tangled her hands through her hair and finally kissed her.

It felt like she had come home. Between Rachel's lips pulling at hers, and her tongue finding its way inside the walls of her mouth, to the way Rachel had cupped her face and was pulling her into her, like Quinn wasn't close enough. It was as though Quinn's body had finally stopped aching, as though Rachel had been the cure all along and it had just needed this kiss to realize it.

"I love you," Rachel murmured pulling away, "I'll always love and be in love with you,"

Quinn rested her forehead against hers, "I love you too," she whispered.

Just after she had said it, she felt these small little pieces fall onto both of them and litter their coats with white specks.

"Your frosty flakes!" Mr McDonald huffed, throwing the remaining of the can over the top of them.

"Gayly appreciated Mr McDonald," Rachel called after him as Quinn laughed into her neck.

"I think perhaps we're the Christmas trees now huh," she said brushing the flakes from Quinn's hair.

"Only us," she replied, and she held her close, her Christmas wish had come true.

* * *

><p>my lovely little readers! I can't promise when I'll be able to update : don't hate me I'm just busy writing books... SSOA won't be over until I say THE END by the way haha

in the mean time

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belikecourtney (twitter and instagram)

thelittlereaders (hotmail)

let's talk!

all my love as always! xx


	42. Chapter 41

My wonderful little readers! I've deprived you guys for so long… so to make up for it I thought I'd put some ;) scenes in. It's taken me a while to figure out how to correctly write something like this, maybe all the talk about 50 shades of grey inspired me. None the less I write it my way, so I hope I pulled it off… haha

This is just a quick update… to let you know **I AM STILL HERE**! Just busy with my hectic life as usual.

P.s any of your Americans living anywhere remotely near Colorado and by some chance knew or was directly affected by those shootings… sending all my love to you ok…

Anyway talk to me guys as always…

itsonlyyforever (tumblr and instagram)

And YES I have emails to get back to… I haven't forgotten my loves!

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 41<strong>

_Sometimes people say no, and then other times, the right times, people say yes_

Senior Year

* * *

><p>The bedroom door was thrown open, as Quinn and Rachel tumbled inside.<p>

"Baby you are soaked," Rachel said as Quinn sunk her teeth into her neck.

"Very," she agreed.

"No," Rachel laughed, "I meant we're both wet,"

Quinn rolled her eyes, of course they were wet; they were soaked to the bone, from the torrential downpour that had set in over Ohio this afternoon. Mixed with the remaining snow, she was quite positive they were both going to catch hyperthermia.

"Quickly," Quinn said putting on an urgent voice, "Take off all your clothes, get under the covers and let me hold you for body warmth,"

Rachel smirked, "I see right through you," she said and Quinn felt her lips slide over hers.

God Rachel smelt so good, she smelt of rain, and snowflakes and hot chocolate, she was dripping, her hair was laced to the sides of her face, but even Quinn could still feel the warmth of her body.

"I want you so badly," Quinn whispered and Rachel immediately snaked her hands around her waist pulling her closer.

"So badly?" she asked.

"As badly as a man with no arms wants his arms,"

Rachel wrinkled her nose, "Fives, that's terrible,"

Quinn laughed, "Oh come on!"

Rachel pretended to be insulted, "The poor man with no arms," she said.

"Just come here and be in mine!" Quinn replied and Rachel backed away towards the bed.

Quinn flicked her leg out behind her, pushing the door with her foot and smirking as it slammed shut.

"House to ourselves though?" Rachel asked.

Quinn nodded, "At least until later tonight,"

"I love post holiday traffic," she grinned.

"You know," Quinn said stepping towards her, "It's going to be 2012 very soon,"

Rachel hummed, "Gonna party like its two thousand and twelve,"

Quinn laughed, "Which means not long until summer, which means not long until we graduate,"

Rachel sighed, "Baby we still have like six months, don't wish it away just yet,"

Quinn shrugged, "I'm just saying, there's things we'll have to talk about, plans we might have to make, situations we need to discuss, I think we should have the talk now…"

Rachel groaned, "Ok I surrender!" she pulled her shirt over her head and threw it on the floor.

Quinn bit her lip, trailing her eyes over Rachel's tiny body, she was wearing Quinn's favorite bra, the black lace one, "I am the master,"

"You're annoying," Rachel replied and she pulled Quinn into her arms again, scratching at her clothes.

"Make love to me," she murmured.

"Fast or slow?" Quinn murmured back, rolling her tongue across Rachel's lips.

"Both," she replied, gripping her sides and squeezing.

Quinn pulled away a moment, she hadn't had sex with Rachel in so long, actually she hadn't had sex with anyone for a really long time, unless you try and count her left hand, but even then trying to be ok with the fact Rachel was not on top or underneath her seemed to kill any moment she was remotely turned on. The whole time she had been praying this moment would come back, where she could fall into the sheets with the girl she loved more than anything else in the world and have her grip the back of her head every time something felt good. Now this moment was here, and all she wanted to do was look at her for a moment.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked, sliding Quinn's shirt up her torso.

"Nothing," she replied and she held her arms over her head, her shirt came off easily and Rachel flicked it to the floor.

Looking at each other, they clipped off their shoes and then laughed as Rachel clumsily nearly tripped on her discarded loafers.

"God I love you," Quinn breathed, cupping her face and kissing her. She rubbed her nose against Rachel's, "You're perfect to me you know that,"

"Fives, stop," Rachel said, but even so Quinn still felt her fingers reach and unbutton her jeans.

"I mean it smalls," she said, trailing her hands over Rachel's shoulders and down her back to where her bra clip was located, "I hate myself for letting you go,"

Rachel shrugged, "I don't think you ever really did baby, I think we were just lost for a little while,"  
>Quinn looked at her, thinking on this, and it reminded her of something she had read the other day. It was a story about a boy who had lost the girl of his dreams. He described the feeling as though something had gone missing from him. As though half of him was no longer there anymore. Can you even imagine meeting the one person who understands the very hidden parts of your heart? The person who could swim through all your insecurities, move all the boxes that fill the attic in your mind, and reach into the darkest parts of your soul, and all the while love you even more, because of it? Can you ever imagine meeting someone, though even in the most brutal storms, just stays with you? No matter what you put them through, no matter how much you ignore them, stray or get lost in your own mind for a while and come back, they always stay on the front porch, waiting for you. The light never goes out. Your outline always remains in the bed sheets, and they never fill your draw in their wardrobe. They become a part of you, and you become a part of them. So much so, that if they were to ever go missing, it would feel like you went missing too.<p>

"If I ever go missing again," Quinn whispered, stroking her finger across Rachel's lips, "I'd take you with me,"

Rachel smiled, "You wouldn't have to ask, I'd just follow you anyway,"

Quinn melted about five times over, before clipping Rachel's bra and pulling it from her shoulders.

"You know," Rachel whimpered, "Why am I the one whose bra comes of first?"

"Because," Quinn replied, sliding her hands over Rachel's chest and watching her quiver, "I lose myself just looking at you,"

Before Quinn could even plant her lips where she wanted them, Rachel had tugged on her jeans and pushed them to the ground.

"Naked," she demanded, "I want you naked now,"

Quinn loved the attitude sometimes, it was such a turn on.

There's something about standing naked and being face to face with someone you love. It's simple to have sex most of the time. People just take off each others clothes or don't take off each other's clothes and have sex in cars, alleys, movie theatres, strangers apartments. But there's something different about having sex, or making love, or whatever you want to call it, with someone that you care about. And not just in, oh you're nice and I like you kind of way, but an actual, I love you, I don't want to think or look at anyone else but you kind of way. You're looking at each other as though you're windows. You're made of glass and you're standing there, and most times you can see your reflection, but then there are other moments where you can see straight through to the other side. Straight through to the person whose underneath all that dust that's grown on the window shade. You can see the cracks, you can see where small scared vessels have sailed and left stories. And you kind of wonder that if you see these cracks, you might be the light they've been searching for. The light that shines through the window shade.

Quinn pushed Rachel to the bed, crawling under the covers, as Rachel continued to kiss her and grip the back of her neck. Rachel being underneath her felt right. They fit together, they had always just fit together. Quinn had always thought being with someone was a little like the way the ocean was always with the shore. In and out, over and under, crashing until you can't swim anymore because everything's swirling and it all just feels too damn good. Being with Rachel was like that. Dipping in and out of her, pressing her fingers deeper because every time she did so Rachel's body would shudder. The sound of her breathing, the way she would say her name in her ear, even the way she would murmur baby, it was too much most of the time. Quinn wanted more, she always just wanted more.

"I want to taste you," Quinn whispered and she felt Rachel quiver all over again.

Without saying another word, she trailed down her stomach, kissing certain places like they'd been marked across a map. She found Rachel's scar. The one she had fallen in love with so long ago. She ran her tongue along it, feeling the rise in the skin, like the smallest of mountains. She moved further down, half smiling as Rachel muttered _god_, and then opened herself for her. It's like an envelope in a way, you're opening a seal, asking to read a letter inside, and most of the time you become so lost between the folds, so intent on making them always remember the love note you've written back, that you become addicted.

Quinn loved the way Rachel tasted. Like summer nights with rain; like softly scented raspberries. Even more she liked the way she felt, the way she sounded, the way after a little while, her hand would snake down and grip the back of Quinn's head. She would grasp and tangle her hair in her fingers and squeeze. It was about listening to how her body responded, that's how Quinn knew. That was her favourite part. In the end its never about the way the ocean comes to the shore, its always about the way the ocean always comes back.

**. . .**

People don't start off with scars. They don't start off with cracks, or holes or any of the sort. Probably because when we first come about, we haven't had anyone leave us. We haven't had people not love us, not understand us, or fail us, or tell us one thing and then the very next day tell us the complete opposite. So after a while of all these things happening, this perfect vessel we were born into, suddenly becomes not so perfect. These cracks start to shine through. But maybe that's the whole point of finding someone you can trust. So that when the morning comes, and the light shines over those cracks, the person you love, the one that returns your love, will trace their fingers over these cracks, and love them too.

Her skin had always been soft, but right now, as the sunlight crept through Quinn's bedroom window, Rachel's skin just seemed softer.

"Stop spying on me," Rachel murmured not even opening her eyes, and it caused Quinn to smile.

She leant in, pressing her lips to her cheek, "Never,"

Rachel stirred in the sheets, moving closer to her, the blanket slipped and her shoulder was exposed. Quinn immediately sunk her teeth into Rachel's bare olive skin.

"I'm not food you know," Rachel protested.

Quinn pulled her close, tangling their legs together, "You're my food," she said, biting into her bottom lip.

Rachel kissed her harder, "I love it when you talk like that,"

"I'm hungry," Quinn said.

"Starbucks?"

She shook her head, pushing Rachel into the mattress and climbing on top of her, "No, that's not what my appetite wants,"

Rachel's eyes grew slightly darker, "Really," she smirked, "Well menu's open for selection,"

Quinn grinned and disappeared under the covers.

Rachel's rapid breathing, the way her body shook, and her thighs squeezing around Quinn who was buried so deeply, let her know that she had finished. This was quite possibly the best breakfast she'd had in a while. Quinn grinned into her, before crawling her tongue, back up Rachel's torso and meeting her lips.

"You taste so good," she whispered into Rachel's mouth.

"I love you," Rachel said breathless.

Quinn sucked on her bottom lip, pleased with herself. After a minute Rachel managed to contain her breathing.  
>"Baby," she said, gently running the pads of her fingers over Quinn's back.<p>

Quinn buried her face into the crook of Rachel's neck, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, legs tangled, Rachel still wet, this was perfect.

"Mmmm," she said.

"If I said I wanted to do something, would you agree?"

Quinn laughed, "Smalls it depends on what it is, I mean sure if you're a bird I'm a bird, but I don't do bank robbery's remember,"

She knew Rachel had just rolled her eyes.

"Ok, ok," Quinn said, propping her head up so Rachel could look up at her. She loved being this close to her. Noses touching, lips touching when ever one would tilt their heads.

"You know how we make love, and it's amazing?"

Quinn kissed her, "Yes," she muttered.

"Well what happens if I want to fuck you,"

Quinn stopped trying to bite her lip and looked at her, "What?" she asked tilting her head.

Rachel squirmed, "I sound so dirty saying it like that, but I don't mean it in that way, I just mean…." She closed her eyes, "I don't even know, forget it,"

"No smalls," Quinn whispered, "You want to fuck me, that's what you said, don't take it back,"

Rachel looked at her, "I want to be in you, and I want you to be in me,"

Quinn was trying so hard to actually figure out what she meant and then all of a sudden it seemed to click, "Baby!" she grinned, "You want to use a fake penis!"

"Oh god!" Rachel moaned, "Not when you say it like that,"

Quinn laughed, "Oh my god you actually want to fuck me, whose wearing it first babe?"

"Stop it!" Rachel scowled, "This isn't funny," and she started to try and wiggle out from underneath her.

"No," Quinn pleaded, "Smalls I'm sorry, I'm being a douche bag,"

"Yes," she grumbled looking away, "You are,"

"Baby," Quinn whispered, kissing her forehead, "Baby look at me,"

"I feel stupid,"

"Rachel," Quinn said again, "Look at me,"

Sure enough those great big almond eyes found Quinn's and locked like anchors.

"I love you, so god damn much that if you wanted to fuck me on top of an ice cream truck in the middle of times square whilst singing Barbra Streisand classics then that would be quite fine,"

Rachel laughed, "I am down with this!"

Quinn moved slightly, propping herself above her, and pushing Rachel's stray hair from her face, "You didn't answer my question," she said softly.

"I've forgotten it," Rachel replied, digging her nails into Quinn's back.

"Who wears it first?"

Rachel smirked, "I don't know how to use one,"

"And I do?"

She shrugged, "I want you in me so badly,"

"Stop," Quinn replied, she could feel the heat rising in the back of her neck and she almost wished she had one right now.

"Tomorrow," Rachel whispered, "Kurt can take us to one of those stores,"

Quinn snorted, "That is so awkward…"

"Well I don't want you going and getting a telegraph pole and trying to ram it up my mouse hole,"

Quinn burst out laughing, "Thanks smalls, thanks,"

"I want to do everything with you," Rachel said, "I want everything from you and I want to give everything to you,"

"Be my first and last kiss for new years?" Quinn asked.

Rachel squeezed her harder, "Always," she replied and Quinn laughed as she pulled the covers over their heads.

* * *

><p>Hamilton Wright once said that, "New Year's eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of another twelve months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this evening that come with the coming of darkness on other nights"<p>

He was right in a sense. Maybe he was right in a lot of senses. Because sure enough, as human beings, we find ourselves constantly staying awake on most nights, thinking about all the things that could have been, daydreaming about the things that we so want. And then on New Years Eve each passing year it seems to heighten, maybe it just heightens because there's this great big sense of urgency about it. The new year is rolling in, it's time to make resolutions, time to change, time to forget whatever year has just passed. But Quinn had come to a small realization that maybe that's not what a new year is about. Sure second chances could come about, new beginnings, a chance to start a fresh. But all those things can come at any time. All those things can come if only we allow it. She had spent New Years even at Pucks house. He'd thrown a party, all their friends had been there, and the families had been invited as well. She had scooped Rachel in her arms, one minute before midnight and asked her if she would be her last kiss.

Rachel hadn't even waited until midnight to kiss her. And maybe that's the whole point you know. Why do you need to wait for certain times or moments in your life to do something, or to be someone, or to make a change. You can do that at any time, any place and with anyone. Just pull back the veil you know, don't be so afraid to live your life exactly how you're living it right now.

Now they were back at school. The streets were warming up and so were the chases for college acceptance letters and a national title for Glee Club. For a while, Quinn had always wanted to be one of those people who left intensity behind. You know when you spell out something with Bacardi or vodka, and it's one hundred percent flammable. So if you were to light it on fire, sure enough that secret message would show up? She had a dream once that she wrote her name across the football field and lit it up on graduation day, so that the whole community would know that she had made her mark. Can you imagine leaving that kind of a mark on the world? You'd be like a comet tail, streaking across the earth in a blaze that everyone would recognize. Maybe that's how soul mates feel about each other. They could travel the ends of the earth, and yet still, the person they loved most, well it would be their name blazing in the sky.

"I have an announcement!"

Quinn stopped trying to slick down Kurt's hair.

"He wouldn't have the problem if he just accepted my offer to gel his hair,"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Blaine I think you have enough gel in your hair for entire stage production of Grease,"

Blaine pouted as Quinn laughed.

"What's the announcement Schue," Puck asked, "Are they finally making the locker rooms uni-sex?"

Mr Schuester laughed, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of them all, "No Puck," he said, "But I have decided to ask Emma to marry me,"

"What!" Kurt and Blaine said together.

"Mr Schue!" Mercedes grinned, "That fantastic!"

"I am so excited!" he grinned.

"We should help you Mr Schue," Rachel said, "This proposal has to be perfect,"

"I agree!" Tina said, "We should pitch in ideas!"

Mr Schuester held up his hands, "Okay come on ladies, it's not like this is the first time I've ever proposed!"

Santana snorted, "Oh yeah? How did that marriage work out for you? I mean what was your big move then, a jumbertron that said, 'Hey Terri! I wanna make a fake baby with you!"

"What Santana means," Quinn said holding up her hand, "Is that you totally won't screw it up this time!"

He smiled, "Emma's the one, that's for sure,"

"So what are you gonna do Mr Schue?" Finn asked, "How you gonna do it?"

"How else would I do it?" he said holding up his hands and looking at them.

"Oh hold up homie," Artie said, rolling forward, "Are you preaching what I think you're preaching?"

Will laughed and shook his head, "I don't know, why don't you tell me,"

"See I think what Schuester is trying to say," Artie shrugged, "Is he wants us to do a little performance,"

"Hell yes!" Puck shouted, "Who let the dogs out, because you gonna give her a wild marriage!"

Quinn face palmed, "No I think Mr Schuester wants us to help him, as a romantic gesture, because that's kind of like what music is. Right?"

"Yes Quinn," he said smiling, "I want Emma to know that she will always share in everything that's important to me, because she's important to me,"

"So we break out some dance moves and you get down on one knee?" Santana asked.

He shook his head, "A little. Coach Bieste tells me that this year the synchronize swim team need an extra helping hand for their performance tape,"

"What?" Mercedes and Artie said together.

"The team sends off a yearly performance tape to colleges around the country, and this year they're short some students because not too many people signed up. So I thought why not help them get that performance,"

"You want us to participate in synchronize swimming?" Mike asked.

"Well its just like dancing isn't it, only in water?"

"So true," Mike replied nodding.

Brittany was already on her feet, "Oh we'd be like swans!"

"Babe sit," Santana said.

"No we'd be floating and it would be so awesome," she protested.

"No I mean sit in my lap, I want you close," Santana grinned dragging Brittany into her lap.

"Why don't you just propose San," Sam shrugged.

"I will one day," she smirked, burying her face into Brittany's back.

"Come on guys what do you say?" Will asked clapping his hands, "Help your old glee teacher out?"

"I think it's a great idea," Quinn said, "We can help Mr Schue, surprise Ms Pillsbury, and help out some of our peers,"

"You sound so adult like," Puck smirked.

"That's what happens doesn't it?" she responded eyeing him.

"Ok well what song guys?" Tina asked, "It can be anything we want?"

"I have one," Rachel suddenly said, "It's just a potential though,"

"Okay," Mr Schuester said, "Take it away superstar,"

Rachel picked herself up from where she had sat next to Quinn and made her way to stand by the piano.

"You'll like this one Brad," she whispered and he didn't so much as blink.

Quinn watched him hit the keys and she swore that the guy was a mind reader. How the hell did he know what song they always wanted?

Rachel's voice filled the choir room and instantly Quinn felt her eyes directly on her.

_I can't win, I can't wait  
>I will never win this game without you, without you<em>

It was almost like the rest of the glee club had gone silent, because even though they knew Rachel was showcasing a song for Mr Schuester, she was really singing it to Quinn.

_I am lost, I am vain,  
>I will never be the same without you, without you<em>

_I won't love, I won't love  
>I will never make it past without you, without you<br>I can't rest, I can't lie  
>All I need is you and I, without you<em>

_Without…._

_You_

_I can't take one more sleep this night without you, without you  
>I won't sob, I won't cry<br>If you're not here, I'm living life without you, without you_

_I can't look, I'm so blind  
>Lost my heart, I lost my mind without you<em>

_Without…._

_You_

Do you have someone you can't live without? Someone who you would literally walk the ends of the earth for? Someone who could be miles away from you and yet you wait up each and every night for the phone call. Hold onto them you know, hold onto them and just don't let them go. When Rachel had finished the song, Quinn felt warm, she felt even warmer, when Rachel bowed her head, and walked to sit down next to her. Then the warmest came when Rachel slipped her hand in hers, right where it belongs. Humans look for that you know. They look for the things that make them feel the most warm, the things that make them feel safe. You might not notice it at first, but pay close attention to what you do when you wake up in the middle of the night. If the person you love is lying beside you, you'll reach for them. If you have blankets, you'll pull the blanket over you. Maybe you're cat or your dog is lying there and you'll bury your face into their fur. It's because from the minute we're born, we're wrapped up in a blanket. We're told that we're safe now, we're told that the things that make us warm, are the things that keep us safe. So if those things are someone's arms, you do everything to constantly keep them around you.

* * *

><p>Later during the week, Mr Schuester rescheduled Glee practice to the swimming yard. Quinn knew as soon as she saw the note pinned to the choir room door, that today was the day Mr Schuester was going to propose.<p>

"I'm not sure how I feel about a surprise song, I mean what if it doesn't go with the routine?" Santana growled.

"He said it would no matter what," Rachel shrugged.

"Berry box?" she asked feeling Rachel's forehead with the back of her hand, "Are you coming down with something, miss plan five years ahead?"

Rachel shooed off Santana's hand as Quinn laughed.

"Let's go!" Brittany said skipping round the corner, "We have to change into the cute swimsuits!"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Why a one piece?" she asked, "I am so disappointed,"

By the swimming pool, everyone had changed into their attire and Puck was mocking everyone. But then just as Tina had tested the water with her big toe, music filled the entire yard.

Rachel looked at Quinn immediately, "Fives," she whispered, "It's our song!"

Sure enough Mr Schuester had picked the same song, Quinn and Rachel had danced to all those months back in Santorini. God how times had changed.

"Well we better make it extra special for him!"

"Baby," Rachel said, grabbing onto her wrist, "Marry me one day ok?"

Quinn melted, "I already know how I'm going to ask,"

**. . .**

"Quinn,"

"Oh there's the future groom to be!" she smiled as Mr Schuester hurried to catch up with her.

"You're staying after hours?"

"Was just catching up on some work," she shrugged, "Mum and Dad paid so much for Frannie's tutor I don't really want them doing the same, so Rachel and I agreed to studying longer ourselves,"

Mr Schuester nodded, "You're making adult decisions I see,"

Quinn smiled, "Is there something you wanted to say Mr Schue?"

He shrugged, "Not a lot, just to thank you for earlier today and to tell you something I've learnt while being a Glee Club teacher,"

"Which is?"

"There's going to be a whole heap of things you're afraid to say, one day you might be afraid to keep loving Rachel, or there might be a certain place you're afraid to go, or another one your afraid to stay in. I just want you to always remember, that if it hurts and if you're scared, its because it matters," he took a breath, "You remember that won't you?"

Quinn did nothing but reach out and hug him, "You're going to make an amazing husband Mr Schue," she whispered, "And an even more amazing father,"

He grinned into her, "You could almost say I'm already a father,"

Quinn squeezed him tighter.


	43. Chapter 43

Little Readers,

I know these updates are slow and if I had more time I would update more frequently, but that's just it, I really don't have a lot of time these days.

Just know that I love you all dearly and you can always talk to me on tumblr: itsonlyyforever

Happy reading! (You'll like this one I hope *suggestive emoji*)

Court

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 42<strong>

_There's a change coming, but what would Michael Jackson do?_

_Senior Year_

* * *

><p>There was a change in the air. Quinn couldn't quite work out what it was, but there was definitely a change coming. The roads were quiet as she drove towards school, and Taylor swift was blasting from the CD Rachel had made her the other day. The windows were rolled down and the sun was out for a change. It was a nice day, a nice day, but a day that smelt like change.<p>

"We're doing Jackson," Mr Schuester said and he opened his arms as though he was expecting everyone to rush forward and hug him. Quinn had only just walked in the choir room; she couldn't understand why she hadn't stopped at Starbucks on her way to school.

"Well the Warblers are doing it too," Blaine said sighing.

"You still talk to them?" Puck asked narrowing his eyes.

"Well yeah," Blaine replied, "I still have friends there,"

"You can't ever talk to them!" Artie remarked, "That's the ultimate betrayal,"

"You're like a modern day eggs benedict," Puck agreed.

"Come now," Mr Schue said laughing a little, "Blaine is not a betrayer, if anything his connections with the Warblers will help us,"

"I agree," Kurt replied, "Now if you would kindly back away from my boyfriend,"

Quinn smirked from the other end of the classroom; they had been so cute lately she just wanted to squeeze their cheeks.

"You have assignments this week guys, to help practice for regionals, I want you all to perform a Jackson number," Mr Schue announced bringing their attention back on him.

"Oh god the pressure," Mercedes sighed.

"We laugh in the face of pressure," Sam grinned and he stood and walked to the white board. He picked up and marker and wrote WWMJD with it.

"Did you forget the alphabet Sam?" Santana asked.

Sam shook his head, "No, _What would Michael Jackson Do_?"

"Agreed," Tina smiles, "We'll ask ourselves all week, and it'll help our mindset,"

"Plus, as long as we know we'll fight for the regional title I don't see how we can't beat them," Blaine smiled.

"Fight, as in a street fight?" Finn asked.

"Guys," Mr Schue warned.

"Oh calm your recently engaged boobs Mr Schue," Santana replied, "They mean a dance off,"

Mr Schue raised his eyebrows, clearly unaware how to answer her.

"No," Blaine smiled, "I mean a Jackson off,"

**. . .**

"Are we really having a Jackson off right now?" Quinn sighed.

Rachel clapped her hands beside her, "And the best part is Dad and Daddy went away for the weekend and this is the latest I've been out,"

Quinn smirked, checking the time on her phone, Hiram and Leroy had gone on a fishing trip apparently, which she couldn't work out why because they both hated the smell of fish, no pun intended. Her own parents had gone away as well, she had seen them earlier this morning before school and called her Mom before she'd left.

"_There's something waiting for you on the bench,"_ she had said, _"I didn't open it, but don't tell me until we get home,"_

"_Why?"_ Quinn had asked.

"_Because I want to be able to hug you either way,"_ Judy had responded.

Quinn had been confused about the entire conversation all afternoon at Kurt's. But when Sebastian had texted, telling them where the Jackson off was, she had forgotten all about what ever was waiting at home.

The car park was deserted, and it was making her feel a little edgy.

"We look like a gang" Mercedes quipped.

"We are a gang," Puck replied, "We're the glee gang,"

"Please don't ever say that again," Artie said, "I know you have real life family member gangs Puck, why didn't you bring them,"

Puck shrugged, "They're in jail right now,"

Santana rolled her eyes, "The Warblers are late,"

"Actually," came a voice, "I believe we're just on time," Sebastian stood there, hood over his head, hands behind his back, with the rest of the warblers around him.

"Guys," Blaine smiled, "Ready for some friendly competition?"

"There's nothing friendly about a traitor," Sebastian replied.

Blaine took a step back.

Out of nowhere someone pressed play on a boom box and Michael Jackson's _bad _filled the car park. The sound basically bounced off the walls.

_Because I'm bad, I'm bad__  
><em>_Come on__  
><em>_ Bad, bad, really, bad)__  
><em>_You know I'm bad, I'm bad__  
><em>_You know it__  
><em>_You know I'm bad, I'm bad__  
><em>_Come on, you know__  
><em>_Bad, bad, really, really bad)__  
><em>_And the whole world has to __  
><em>_Answer right now__  
><em>_And the whole world has to __  
><em>_Answer right now)__  
><em>_Just to tell you once again__  
><em>_Who's bad_

"Baby be bad with me," Rachel smirked pulling on Quinn's arm and tugging her behind a cement pole.

"Only with you," Quinn smirked and she kissed her.

Suddenly there was a yell from the center of the car park and the music abruptly stopped.

Alarmed Quinn and Rachel stepped back out from the pole, to find their friends huddled around Blaine, screaming on the ground.

"You fucking asshole!" Kurt screamed, "What did you do! What did you put in the slushie!"

"A healthy drop of backstab," Sebastian smirked.

Blaine was reduced to the point of tears right about now. He was curled into a ball, his hands over his eyes, with Kurt nursing him, and rubbing his back.

"Call an ambulance," Quinn said hurriedly, "Call an ambulance quickly,"

**. . .**

Blaine had to be kept in the hospital over night with a severely scratched cornea and needed surgery. Kurt had refused to leave his side. Quinn had dropped Rachel off, who had begged her to stay the night, but she needed to get home to see this letter her Mom had been talking about. She promised she would stay tomorrow.

"It's Friday baby, we'll have the whole weekend together," she'd said and Rachel had reluctantly agreed.

Quinn let herself inside and switched on some of the lights, it lit her darkened house up immediately. She paused for a minute, as the light reflected off the photo of her grandfather.

"Miss you," she whispered and she walked passed him and into the kitchen. There was an envelope that had been placed against the fruit bowl. As Quinn reached for it, she realized the stamp in the corner. It was from Yale. God it was going to tell her whether she got into Yale or not. Were the envelopes big or small if it meant you got in? How was she supposed to open this? Should she call Rachel, jesus Christ she needed a brown paper bag because she was going to start hyperventilating. Taking a breath, she took the envelope and then walked back out into the corridor to the photo of her Pop.

"Granddad," she smiled, "This is it, this is my future," she stared at his photo for a moment and it was almost like his smile somehow got larger.

"Want to open it with me?" she whispered.

It's always the moments of change in your life that you wish you still had the people you lost. Like when you graduate, or get married or have a baby or anything that signifies change is coming. It doesn't necessarily have to be a huge defining moment, it could even just be the small act of opening a college letter, but right now she wished he were here more than anything.

Quinn closed her eyes briefly, before ripping the seal of the envelope and pulling out the letter.

She got into Yale.

* * *

><p>The morning had been chaotic to say the least. Most of them had received their application letters in the mail as well. Rachel had come over at 3AM because she'd found hers in the washing machine. Apparently her Dads had hid it because they wanted to open it with her, but she'd had a dream about it and woke up needing to find it. She and Kurt had both gotten in to NYADA. Everyone was dancing around screaming in the choir room and by the time Mr Schue walked in, he literally had to stand on the piano just to get their attention.<p>

"Guys," he said laughing, "Guys calm down!"

"We can't!" Tina grinned, "Our old guys got into the colleges they wanted!"

Mr Schue smiled, "Yes I know, some of the colleges called me for references,"

"Guys, I need to sing my Jackson number," Quinn smiled, "But first I need to say something to all of you,"

She stepped away from where Kurt had been resting his head on her shoulder.

"I was comfortable," he muttered.

"Well, I have something to say," she replied and she stared at them all, "I just wanted to thank you all, for being here for me, through everything…"

"Awww little B," Kurt grinned.

"Shhhh!" Mercedes interrupted.

"As some of you know, I got accepted into Yale, and that has always been my dream, but I wouldn't have been able to go for my dream if none of you had of believed in me," she went on, "So for that, I won't ever be able to say goodbye to any of you, because no matter where my life and my studies take me, I'll always carry a piece of Glee Club with me,"

"I'm crying but you can't see that I'm crying because of my manliness," Puck said.

Quinn grinned at him, "I just really love you all,"

Mr Schue allowed them all to talk for half the lesson because they were all so excited. It ended up with some Jackson songs being belted out and Kurt attempting to teach Puck the moonwalk.

After a while Kurt seemed to get this glazed look of sadness over his eyes and everyone knew he was worrying about Blaine.

"Blaine will get through the surgery Kurt," Brittany smiled, "He will be ok,"

Kurt still looked worried sick.

"The doctors know what they are doing," Tina offered, "Really, he's gonna pull through, but in the mean time what can we do?"

"Nothing is going to cheer me up," Kurt sighed, "I mean I want to kill Sebastian and then get Willow to resurrect him so I can kill him again,"

Santana frowned, "Are you referencing Buffy right now?"

"We've been watching re runs," Rachel replied, "We're trying to channel her determination to fight bad guys, into our determination to exceed at NYADA,"

Santana looked from Kurt to Rachel, "You two need to relax, you just got in!"

"Oh no," Kurt corrected, "There is no time to relax,"

Quinn smirked, "Guys enough, the main thing is that Blaine is okay,"

"Well what if it had of been worse, what if…"

"Kurt," Quinn said softly, "What would Snips have said?"

God just the sound of saying his name so loosely in conversation sent shivers down her spine.

"You're right," he smiled, "You're so right Little B,"

"Let's go sex store shopping," Rachel said suddenly, "In the lunch break we'll go and that will cheer you up,"

"Dear god," Quinn said.

"Hell yes," Santana chimed, "Yes me and Britt's know the best one,"

"You guys are on your own," Quinn smiled, "I have to spend the break studying,"

"No baby," Rachel whispered, "I was gonna buy it,"

Quinn's eyes grew wide, "You were not,"

"Are you referring to a stra…"

"Do not say the p or the on Santana," Quinn interrupted, "Just don't even say it,"

"I wont," Santana shrugged, and she linked her arm through Rachel's, "Berry box and I will just BUY IT,"

Quinn groaned as she began to drag Rachel towards McKinley's exit with Kurt talking about lingerie to wear for Blaine.

Since when had her friends all become so kinky?

**. . .**

The more Quinn thought about it, the more she wondered if College halls would be like High School halls, just with older people and more variety. She wondered if Yale would feel like home in the way that McKinley High had.

"What are you thinking about?" Rachel asked, as they walked down the corridor, their hands in each others.

"Stuff," Quinn smiled.

"You're not mad about what I did at lunch are you?" she asked.

Quinn shook her head, "No baby, just curious I guess,"

"Well," Rachel smiled, "I know that face of yours, what kind of other stuff are you thinking," and she reached up and kissed Quinn's cheek.

"How different everything will be soon,"

Rachel stopped slightly, "As in how different we'll be?"

"No," Quinn smirked, "Don't get all worried on me, I'm just telling you how I feel,"

"You're worried about college aren't you?

"Aren't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, "We'll be okay though, right?"

"Of course we will," Quinn grinned, "We're going to be New Yorkers, well more you than me,"

She laughed, "It'll be different Fives, life is always different with any change, but I promise I won't stop loving you,"

"Prove it," Quinn responded and she pushed her against the lockers, kissing her.

"I need the auditorium," Rachel said through her lips.

Quinn groaned, "I meant prove it with your mouth babe,"

"No I really need the auditorium," Rachel answered, "I have to perform my Jackson number for Glee,"

Quinn stopped biting her lip, "Is lunch time over already?"

Rachel looked up and down the halls, "Are you just noticing that no one's here?"

Quinn shrugged, "I don't notice anyone but you,"

Rachel giggled, "You are the biggest dork I know,"  
>She rolled her eyes and allowed herself to be dragged towards the auditorium for the days final class.<p>

"Aye yo Yale girl, come here," Puck said and he tapped the seat next to him. Quinn smirked, "You gonna be cleaning my pools right, with your business?"

Puck smiled as she sat down and he put his arm around her, "And baby sitting," he said.

"Okay guys," Mr Schuester said, "Rachel has her Jackson number, Rachel whenever you're ready,"

"I want to dedicate this song to you guys," she smiled.

"As all songs should be dedicated to us," Brittany chirped and Santana laughed, covering her mouth.

Rachel laughed, "But I also want to dedicate it to my girlfriend Quinn, because I am so proud you got into Yale, and no matter where life takes us, I want you to know that I just can't stop Loving you,"

Before Quinn could even respond the music had already sounded and Rachel's perfect voice filled the Auditorium.

_Each Time The Wind Blows__  
><em>_I Hear Your Voice So__  
><em>_I Call Your Name . . .__  
><em>_Whispers At Morning__  
><em>_Our Love Is Dawning__  
><em>_Heaven's Glad You Came . . .__You Know How I Feel__  
><em>_This Thing Can't Go Wrong__  
><em>_I'm So Proud To Say__  
><em>_I Love You__  
><em>_Your Love's Got Me High__  
><em>_I Long To Get By__  
><em>_This Time Is Forever__  
><em>_Love Is The Answer_

By the time Rachel finished, Quinn's head was on Pucks shoulder and he was humming the song too. She had done it so perfectly; Quinn thought she might melt through the floor.

"That was my song," Finn said, standing up suddenly, "That was my song that I was going to sing,"

"What?" Rachel asked, still standing on the stage, but the lights were on her face and she looked confused entirely.

"My song!" Finn said again, louder this time.

"Actually its Michael Jackson's song," Santana remarked.

"Santana," Mr Schue warned.

"How could that be your song Finn?" Rachel asked, "I'm very sorry if can't stop loving the glee club as well but…"

"No!" he yelled, "I can't stop loving you!"

There was an unhealthy amount of silence before Kurt cleared his throat, "Well I think maybe that's a Jackson wrap…"

"Shut up!" Finn said, "You're fine, you have your precious Blaine, meanwhile the girl I love has been stolen but the girl I used to date, its fucked!"

"Watch your language Finn," Mr Schue said, "I think its best if you go home, take the afternoon to recover,"

"What for?" he argued, "I'm left with this ache in my chest all day, every day, Rachel don't you remember how it was with us, it was perfect?"

"Woah now," Santana interrupted, "All I remember is a dinosaur man wanting to swallow a Jew,"

"Santana stay out of this," he said hotly, "Rachel I know you sometimes think what it would be like to be with me, to get married to me, everything would be so much easier, I'd be able to look after you,"

"You can't look after your feet," Brittany replied.

Rachel was in shock, so was Quinn, actually so was everyone.

"Who the hell do you think you are basically accusing me of not being able to take care of her," Quinn asked her cheeks flaring red.

"You gonna take care of her like you did a few months ago, by just up and leaving her when things got too hard for you?"

"You did not," Tina said and she stood up.

Quinn's fists curled, "Don't you dare bring that into this, you have no idea what that was like,"

"I found out that my Dad wasn't really in the army and yet I held it together," he retorted, "You thought just because your grandfather died, you could dye your hair pink, become some punk and leave Rachel alone… she deserves better,"

"Enough," Puck said sharply, "Man I love you, but sometimes you got a different side that I don't like, let's go to the gym yeah," he stepped forward and pushed Finn slightly to get him to back off.

Quinn had no idea what to say.

"You're wrong," Rachel said as he turned to follow Puck, "Quinn left me yes, but she came back, she found her way back to me, she was strong enough to come back for me,"

Finn looked at her, "Well maybe I'll get you back one day too,"

With that he turned and he stormed form the auditorium.

"Let me know how he goes Puck," Mr Schue sighed and Puck nodded chasing after him.

"You're worried about him aren't you," Mercedes said.

Mr Schue looked at them all, "He hasn't been himself lately,"

"Yeah he's acting like a crazy big foot," Artie replied.

"I'll keep a close eye on him," Mr Schue smiled, "But the rest of you go home and enjoy the weekend!"

For Quinn, this had all but almost ruined it.

**. . .**

It was just after midnight and they had been watching reruns of friends for the past four hours.

"This is nice," Quinn said softly, raising her head from Rachel's chest, "Just lying here, just with you, no friends, no parents, just us,"

"Just pretend it's our house baby, our room, and we're twenty eight and married," she responded and she turned the volume down slightly.

Quinn laughed, "Do we have kids yet?"

"Only if our careers have taken off," she said.

"Ok so you're a big broadway star, and I'm a struggling writer,"

Rachel ruffled her hair, "No you are a successful writer Fives,"

"Can I be an astronomer too?"

"You can be whatever you want, I believe in you,"

Quinn smiled into the soft fabric of Rachel's sweater, "Can I kiss you with my words and write a love novel about you?"

"You've written hundreds of novels dedicated to me," she grinned.

Quinn laughed again, "Oh really? Hundreds?"

"Make it thousands and I'll take my top off," she replied.

"I'll write infinite books about you," she said, and she slipped her hand beneath Rachel's sweater.

"God," Rachel muttered, "What about more than infinite,"

"More than all the books in all the universes," she muttered, and she pushed her hand up Rachel's torso, finding her bra, and pushing under that as well.

Rachel kissed her harder, "I love when you do that,"

"I love touching you like this," Quinn grinned, and she drew circles, tracing the goosebumps that had formed.

Rachel allowed Quinn to pull her sweater over her head and throw it to the floor, thank god she wasn't wearing a shirts underneath and Quinn now had complete access to work on unclipping her bra.

"Are you okay with what happened earlier today?"

Quinn stopped touching her immediately, "Rachel my hands are all over your breasts, and you bring up Finn Hudson?"

Rachel frowned, "I didn't say his name,"  
>"You didn't have to!" she growled and rolled off her, "Now that just got ruined,"<p>

"Quinn, just because I asked if you were okay, does not mean you can stop touching me," she responded and she tried to grab Quinn's hands again.

"Yeah well maybe I'm not in the mood anymore,"

"You're kidding,"

Quinn looked at her, that face, those lips, those eyes, god nothing she could ever say would turn her off, "It's stupid that I get jealous sometimes isn't it," Quinn said softly.

Rachel sat up slightly leaning on her elbow, "It turns me on to be honest,"

She sighed, "I know I shouldn't be jealous of him, but I get scared sometimes, I get scared that you never forgave me for leaving you before or turning into someone different, I get scared that you'll wake up one day and want Finn and not me,"

Rachel suddenly placed her hand over Quinn's mouth so she couldn't say anything, "Are you being serious right now?"

Quinn nodded.

"Fives," she said, "Do you remember the first time we said I love you?"

Quinn smiled, "I'll always remember that,"

"When I said that to you, I meant it,"

"Baby I meant it too," Quinn replied, touching Rachel nose with hers.

"Well then believe me," she answered, "Believe me when I say that I kept all of your letters, I still have them, and I have you, and I won't love anyone as much as I love you.

Quinn went back to assaulting Rachel's lips, before moving her hands under her bra again and finally undoing it. Rachel's chest pressed into her shirt, before her hands managed to take Quinn's sweater off as well.

"You should take your pants off," Rachel muttered, clawing at her thighs.

"Do I have a choice?"

"God Fives I want you so badly,"

"You have me," she responded and she cusped her fingers around the side of Rachel's jaw, holding her there, before taking her lips with hers.

"Mmmm," Rachel smiled between her lips, "You taste so good right now,"

"Shut up," Quinn growled, "Just let me kiss you,"

Rachel fell silent, as Quinn kissed her top lip, and then her bottom lip, and she moved her mouth along her jawline, before sinking her teeth into her neck and biting down.

Rachel tilted her head sideways, grasping the back of Quinn's head and squeezing.

"Can we do it," she whispered, "I'm so wet, can we just do it,"

Quinn smirked, "We always do it,"

"No," Rachel said pulling away, and Quinn was almost devastated she had moved her lips away.

She looked at her a moment, confused.

"I mean," Rachel, continued, "I mean can we use _it,_ to do it?"

Quinn felt her stomach turn over, "You mean you want to use…. _It_?"

Rachel nodded, and she looked so innocent, Quinn didn't know whether she wanted to change that.

"Please," she said again, "I want you to be inside me,"

Quinn kissed her gently, before slipping her hand between Rachel's legs, and unclipping her jean button.

Rachel's breathing fastened.

She teased her for a moment, brushing her fingertips along the top of her jeans, before pushing past and snaking her finger down her centre. Rachel's underwear was soaked through.

"Don't tease me," she muttered, kissing Quinn harder.

Quinn pushed her tongue into her mouth, before she curled her finger around the hemming and passed the lace of her underwear.

Rachel's back arched as soon as Quinn had entered her.

"See," she whispered, "I am inside you,"

You know when you have sex with someone you love it's almost like you can sense the feelings between you. You feel them everywhere. They're on their lips as you run your own along them. They're exhaled in breaths as you press deeper against them. Sometimes people say sex is just always sex, and that's okay, because to some people it really is just that. But even if they never admit it there's something they'll always know; when you have sex with someone you care about, it tastes, it sounds and it feels so much better. You're not just peeling away clothes; you're peeling away secrets. You're not just kissing lips; you're kissing something that's yours. You're not just moving inside them, you're opening them, and you're exploring the things that they keep so guarded.

"I love you," Rachel muttered, "I love you so much and I can't love anyone else but you,"

"I know," Quinn replied, and she slipped another finger inside her, "I'm the same way,"

There was so much heat between them, Quinn swore their skin was going to catch on fire. It felt like she was a rocket that had been launched into outer space and nothing made sense other than to keep sliding her fingers in and out of Rachel. She felt all around her walls, the places were so familiar and yet so new at the same time. She rubbed over Rachel's spot and grinned as she whimpered beneath her. Touching her like this and hearing how she responded was one of the best things to feel. Each spot was different and made Rachel react in different ways. Some made her gasp, others made her clench, and Quinn's favorite spots were the ones that made her whole body shiver and beg for more.

"Fives," she said, "I need you, in every way, I want to…."

Quinn pulled away after a moment, "You really want to do this?"

Rachel nodded, "I didn't just buy it, to not use it,"

Quinn smirked, "Where is it,"

She pointed to her cupboard, "Hidden in my top draw,"

"Am I wearing it?"

"Yes," she near whispered.

Quinn took a breath, before crawling off Rachel and moving towards where she had kept their… god she couldn't even say it because she felt that nervous. She didn't know what the hell she was doing, its not like she'd ever used one before, what if she broke it, what if she looked gross while putting it on and Rachel didn't want her anymore. God what if Rachel was forever turned off by her? She needed to shut her brain off or otherwise she was going to vomit all over it and that most definitely would turn Rachel off.

Once upon a time the idea of fucking someone hadn't really appealed to Quinn. Even the word sounded distasteful. But hearing it come from Rachel's mouth didn't sound so bad. It sounded sexy, it sounded safe, like all it meant was just trying something different, finding new things to make her feel good. That's all Quinn had ever wanted to do, make Rachel feel good.

Figuring out how to put the damn thing on was a completely different story, but she managed, and before long, she was under the sheets, lying there, looking at Rachel like it was the first time she had ever seen her.

"I will always love the way you look at me," Rachel smiled.

"I'll always love looking at you,"

Rachel took a small breath before pulling at Quinn's arm, "Get on top of me," she whispered.

Quinn responded, sliding her body in between Rachel's legs, hovering a little because she wasn't sure how this was going to work.

The silicon was between them, as though it was waiting to be directed to where it needed to go.

"It goes inside," Rachel giggled, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Baby it's not like I control it,"

"So control me," Rachel purred and she bit down on Quinn's bottom lip, just the gesture was enough to send tingles straight through her body.

Without thinking, Quinn trailed her hands from where they had been gripping Rachel's hips, and moved them to find the piece attached to her. She angled it, so the tip was touching the center of Rachel.

She shivered.

"Maybe it will just slip inside you," Quinn whispered and she pushed her hips into her.

Rachel flinched.

"Does it hurt?" Quinn asked a little alarmed at how she had reacted.

Rachel nodded beneath her, her eyes closed tightly, "A lot," she murmured.

"Baby its not even all the way in yet," she replied, she had probably only put an inch or so inside her.

"Just keep going," Rachel said softly.

Quinn moved into her more, feeling the silicon slide deeper into Rachel, she knew it was hurting her, she hated that it was.

Rachel moaned softly, but to Quinn it sounded like this quiet noise of pain.

Quinn brushed the hair away from her eyes, "I'll stop, it's hurting you too much,"

"No," Rachel whispered, "It's good pain, I want you inside me,"

Quinn stared at her for a moment, sometimes she wondered how something could be so perfect, and be all hers.

She moved again, adjusting her body, to hover over Rachel's before slipping her hand beneath their legs, and positioning it again. It felt weird and strange and yet amazing at the same time.

"Smalls," Quinn breathed, "Relax,"

"I can't…. I'm so scared,"

Quinn looked down at her, "Baby, do you remember the first time we kissed?"

Rachel hummed, "God, yes,"

"Do you remember what it felt like to have my lips on yours, and my hands all over you?"

She pressed deeper.

"Yes," Rachel whispered.

"The first time I kissed you I knew I never wanted to ever stop kissing you," she responded and she moved her body against Rachel's.

"The first time I kissed you, I knew that I wanted my lips on yours always, because your lips were now my lips,"

"Quinn," she breathed and Quinn felt Rachel's stomach clench beneath her as she pressed even harder. Her hands gripped her in a way that she could almost feel her fingers slip between her ribcage.

"Deeper," Rachel muttered and Quinn did what was asked.

Maybe that was the best sound in the world, listening to Rachel's breathing quicken, before she came beneath her. It was soft and quiet almost, until eventually she couldn't take anymore.

Rachel's legs were quivering, her nails were digging into Quinn's back, and all the while Quinn pressed deeper against her, moving faster in response to whatever Rachel's body was telling her to do.

And all at once, Rachel's whole body trembled and so did Quinn's, and the sound as Rachel came, was the best sound she'd ever heard.

"That felt good," Rachel whispered and Quinn laughed, her arms squeezed tighter around her.

She was still inside her.

"Is the pain still there?"

"It was at first," Rachel muttered, "But then it really felt…" she paused to catch her breath, "It felt amazing,"

Quinn smirked, "Good, that's all I want,"

They laughed for a while, as Quinn struggled to take it all off, and then finally wrap her legs around Rachel, without anything in between them.

Rachel pushed herself on top of her, "So does this mean I get to ride you more?"

"Smalls stop it!" Quinn replied, squatting her arm and Rachel laughed.

"Baby I'm teasing you," she whispered and she kissed her, "You will always be the one I love most, you know that right?"

Quinn thought back to what they had been talking about earlier, "I know,"

"Do you?" Rachel responded, "Because when some people talk about the person they will love for the rest of their life, the person that will always have their heart no matter what happens, I always think of you,"

"Stop," she smiled, running her fingertip along Rachel's lips.

"I'm just telling you," Rachel said, "That I loved you back then, I love you now, and I will always love you, you're the only one I want, and the best thing that's ever happened to me,"

Quinn just let the tear roll down her cheek, she couldn't help it, she was barely an adult and yet she'd found her everything.

"Love me forever?" she whispered.

"Love you for light years," Rachel whispered.

Quinn twisted in the sheets, tracing her hands over Rachel's body like it was the only thing she would ever enjoy touching.

"Again," she grinned into her lips.

"Again and again and again," Rachel replied and they laughed as their limbs became tangled once more.


	44. Chapter 44

Little Readers!

It has been months and months, I am so sorry I was stuck in Mordor :P actually I've been traveling and writing and completely busy with life and editing my actual books. I don't watch Glee anymore I'm afraid :( however I was very saddened by poor Cory's death. RIP to such a great actor! This chapter is very short and sweet and to be quite honest I actually need to go and re read the last chapters because I have no idea where I left off I just started writing it again after one too many messages for another chapter lol

Thanks to everyone still supporting me, I actually write and post a lot more on Tumblr so if you're not already following me, check out my blog itsonlyyforever on tumblr and you'll find a lot of my writing there!

Also Merry Christmas my loves, here's my present to you :)

As always, Happy Reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 43<strong>

_Spanish lessons or a lesson coming?_

Senior Year

"We have a new teacher!" Rachel called pushing passed a group of freshman and finding her place beside Quinn at the table.

"You mean a substitute teacher," Santana responded, "Who is actually going to teach us some Spanish,"

Quinn grinned, "You asked Mr Schue to go find a new teacher?"

Santana smiled, "I just think he needs some guidance, I also think you all need guidance, you never even know what I'm saying half the time,"

"I do," Brittany winked, kissing her.

"You know bad words," Santana replied, taking Brittany's hands in hers and kissing the tops.  
>"Actually I know mostly sweet words,"<p>

Santana put her finger to her lips, "Shhhh,"

"Oh please," Quinn said, "We know how corny you are around her, you can't fool us,"

"Look whose talking!" Santana replied.  
>"Anyway," Rachel quipped clapping her hands, "Tonight you can't come over, you'll have to find something to do with Santana,"<p>

"What?" they both said together.

"Mercedes, Kurt, Brittany and myself are having a sleep over, girls only,"

"How does Kurt manage to get in the girl club over us?" Santana accused.

"Because I'm more of a girl than you," Kurt grinned, sitting down at the bench with his half eaten apple.

"I don't actually understand?" Santana said, "Why can't we sleep over, and spoon and other things under the covers…?"

"Because I said so," Rachel replied, "You two can entertain yourself,"

Quinn looked at her, she looked so good today, something about the way she had let her hair curl at the ends, and the way her eyes seemed lighter than usual.

"Santana, we'll grab some candy and go for a drive, like old times," Quinn replied looking at her.

Santana smirked, "Where we'd sit on the hill and curse out half the cheerios,"

"You know it,"

The bell rang for class and both Kurt and Rachel shot up as though they'd been set on fire.  
>"Are you two ever going to relax about being late to class?" Santana yelled as they ran towards the school.<p>

"No!" they called back, with their arms linked and their bags slung over the shoulders.

"You're girlfriend," Santana said, grabbing Brittany around the waist and kissing her neck.

"And proud of it," Quinn responded, picking up her bag and following her friends inside.

**. . .**

"Twilight is like my all time favourite movie," Brittany said excitedly, finding the remote and settling down in Rachel's bed amongst the pillows.

"I prefer Harry Potter if we're being honest," Rachel replied and she handed the bag of crisps to Kurt.

"Santana likes Lord of the Rings," she said, "But the Orcs are scary,"

Mercedes laughed and made herself comfortable on one of the bean bags next to Kurt, "They are quite scary,"

"I'm just super glad we could wear our onesies," Kurt smiled pulling at his bright blue onesie with printed dinosaurs.

Rachel smirked, "You would say that,"

She dimmed the lights and pressed play and the movie started. It wasn't even half way through before Rachel started to fidget with the pillows.

"Do you think Edward loves Bella?"

"Yes," Kurt replied, "Shhhh,"

"No but what if Bella didn't want to love him anymore and she found love with someone else and then Edward wouldn't let it go,"

Mercedes turned to her through the dark, "Are we still talking about the movie?"

Rachel looked down at her hands crossed in her lap.

Brittany paused the movie and switched the bedside lamp on, "What's up Berry box?"

Rachel sighed, "Finn is too much right now, like it went away for a while and I thought he was okay, but he's been sending me these weird text messages,"

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked leaning forward.

"Like that he wants to get back together and being with Quinn is a mistake and he's just waiting for me to realise,"

"What the fuck," Mercedes said.

"And he sends me these weird song lyrics and says good morning and goodnight and that he loves me, even when I don't reply,"

"Okay he needs to back up," Mercedes replied, "Like really back the fuck up,"

"But he says other weird stuff guys, like how without me he'd be nothing and that if I don't be with him he'll end himself,"

"You need to go to Mr Schue," Kurt said quietly, "You need to go to him Rachel,"

"No, I don't want to tell anyone, I don't want to embarrass him,"

"What about Quinn," Brittany said, "Does she know?"

"No," Rachel responded, "And please don't tell her, she'll freak out,"

"Of course she'll freak out," Mercedes cried, "He's basically stalking you!"

"No I think maybe he's just lonely," she replied, "I don't know,"

"Tell Quinn," Brittany said, "Or at least just hint to her with what's going on, she deserves to know,"

Rachel nodded quietly, "I guess, I just wanted to tell someone,"  
>"We won't say anything Rachel," Kurt promised, "You can always tell us anything, but that behavior needs to stop, you need to be clear with Finn that you are with Quinn,"<p>

"I know," Rachel, sighed, "I'm just scared he'll do something,"

"Which is why you need to tell an adult,"

"Okay," Rachel sighed, "I'll figure it out during the week,"

**. . .**

Spanish classes had quickly become Quinn's favourite. Between Santana looking so happy all the time, and Rachel laughing at the funny things Mr Martinez would say, this wasn't such a bad lesson throughout the day. Even Mr Schue had made them pick a whole bunch of songs to sing in Spanish for Glee club. It was the end of the day, school had already finished but Mr Martinez was still scoring the rest of the pop quiz and half of the Glee club were still playing around dancing and singing. They had been allowed to stay back in choir room, which was nice considering the rest of the school had gone home and it felt like the whole place was theirs.

Finn had been on the drums nearly all afternoon, and he hadn't stopped staring at Rachel. It took everything in Quinn not to ask him to look the fuck away from her girlfriend.

"I am very proud of all of you!" Mr Martinez cheered, "You guys all passed the quizzes! I wish I could take you to my house for a big Spanish party!"

"I'll bring the Margarita's" Santana quipped.

"And I would be fired!" he grinned, and his bright white teeth seemed to light up the whole choir room.

"Mr Martinez what's your favourite song of all time?" Brittany asked, as she sat in Santana's lap playing with her hair.

He looked up from the desk, "You know Brittany, my favourite of all time, is actually this beautiful song they played on my wedding day…"

Suddenly the drums all came crashing down, as Finn kicked them across the other side of the room.

"Whoa, whoa," Artie called, "What the hell dude,"

"Here's my favourite wedding song," Finn said, "It's called Finn marries Rachel like what is suppose to happen,"

Puck snorted, "Yeah okay, and pigs are meant to fly too…."

"I'm serious, we should get married one day Rachel," Finn replied, and his eyes had glazed over and his face seemed darker.

Quinn glared at him, "Do you have amnesia asshole?"

"Fives," Rachel said, running to her, "Just leave it be,"

"He's telling MY girlfriend to marry him," Quinn replied, "Would you leave it be if it was me?"

Rachel's shoulders slumped, "Let's just go okay, we'll go for a drive somewhere,"

"Or I could hit him with one of his stupid drums,"

"Come on guys," Mr Martinez said, "No need to get angry,"

"This guy doesn't know how to move the hell on," Quinn snapped.

"Because you aren't meant to be with her," he yelled angrily.

Quinn felt herself launch forward and then Rachel's hands slipped in hers and calmness washed over her in the same way Rachel usually manages to put out her angry fires.

"Please fives," she said again, "Let's just go, you and me, please,"

Quinn exhaled sharply, still glaring, before walking from the choir room following Rachel and not daring to look back.

They drove in silence for at least ten minutes, while the thoughts seemed to beat at Quinn's brain the way Finn had beat the damn drums all afternoon. "There's something not right with Finn and I don't know what it is," she finally said, pulling the car into the old parking lot. The sun had gone down already and the air had set in cool but it was a clear night and you could see the burning lights from Ohio below the hill. She felt safe here though; in one of many spots she shared with Rachel.

"He's been acting really weird lately," Rachel sighed, "and there's probably a lot more that I should tell you, but I don't want to talk about him right now,"

"More that you should tell me? Why can't you tell me now?" Quinn asked.

"Because," Rachel said, sliding off her seat beat, "I want to talk about us first,"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how we both have dreams and things to accomplish but at the same time I want to marry you,"

"Smalls," she said, leaning closer to her, "What's all this talk of marriage, we don't need to talk about that stuff yet, we have a life time,"

Rachel kissed her, bringing her hands across Quinn's collarbone and running her nails softly across her exposed skin, "But what if you leave me before I marry you,"

Quinn pulled back alarmed, "Okay what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, I just think about the Spanish teacher and how worldly he is and how many places he's traveled and I think about how you would want to do that too and all the people you would meet, people slightly less annoying than me,"

"Come here right now," Quinn replied and she didn't mean for her voice to sound so urgent but it did anyway.

"I feel stupid," Rachel murmured and her lips slightly quivered.

"Come here," Quinn repeated gripping her wrist and pulling her forwards, Rachel slid easily onto her lap, straddling Quinn and leaning gently against the steering wheel.

"Rachel I love you so much that I want to share these things with you, remember Greece and how amazing it was and how we were ourselves and we shared everything?"

Rachel nodded, "But there's more parts of the world Quinn, more libraries for you to see and spots to see the stars from, what if one day you will want to see those things with someone else,"

She shook her head, "Don't you understand that I see you in everything? In all the constellations, I taste in my morning coffee, and feel you in my sheets when you aren't there, you're it Rachel, you're my world within the world,"

Rachel stared at her through the dark, wondering if it was perfectly acceptable to find the love of your life so young.

Quinn kissed her, slowly at first until she was fighting with her hands to remain lost in Rachel's hair and not travel to any other places of her body.

"We haven't had sex in your car in so long," Rachel breathed heavily, "I think we should change that,"

"But we have school tomorrow morning," Quinn responded even though she didn't actually care it was more about being polite.  
>"Stop being polite," Rachel said almost immediately after she'd even thought it.<p>

"Then stop thinking about marriage and traveling and everything that you already know I want with you," she whispered, trailing her hand over Rachel's chest and squeezing.

Rachel's breathing quickened as she kissed Quinn harder, "Then stop thinking about Finn and how you seem to think he's going to take me away from you,"

Quinn raised her eyebrows, "I am not thinking about Finn when I'm about to make love to you,"

Rachel grinned into her lips, "He could never fuck me the way you could,"

Hearing that word come from Rachel's innocent lips sent her crazy, "No he couldn't," she replied and she immediately unbuttoned her jeans, sliding her fingers inside until Rachel pressed harder against them.

"I love you," Rachel panted as Quinn began to move inside her.

Rachel felt so good it was insane, "I love you more," Quinn responded, sliding down her center and feeling Rachel's body tense.

"You're sexy and you know it," she half grinned and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Shut up," she replied and then almost fell apart as Rachel moved her lips to her neck.

"How many places do you want to make love to me in?" she asked.

"A billion," Quinn replied, moving her other hand to grip the back of Rachel's neck, she felt Rachel's hand slid past her jeans to mimic exactly what Quinn was doing to her.

"I don't think my body can handle that,"

"Your body will do whatever I tell it to," Rachel replied.

"Really," Quinn whispered, she moved inside Rachel easily. Everything fit with her. She knew all her spots and her secret places and how to make the noises she loved so much escape Rachel's lips.

Rachel moved against Quinn's fingers, pressing their foreheads together, her lips lingering over Quinn's.

"Will you marry me when we're ready," Rachel asked.

"I will marry you every day for the rest of our lives," she responded and she felt herself beginning to pool around Rachel's fingers as Rachel did the same.

"Fuck," Rachel murmured, running her tongue over Quinn's lips before biting gently.

There was a song on the radio but Quinn couldn't register what it was because she was so full of Rachel and Rachel was so full of her nothing else in the world even matter.

"Harder," she whispered and Rachel did what she was told.

Rachel always felt so damn good in anything she ever did it was almost impossible to want it to ever stop.

"Quinn," Rachel gasped, "I'm gonna…."

"With me," she replied, kissing her harder.

And they did, together as usual, with stars dancing around them and their hearts beating louder than drums and their skin on fire and all the while holding each other like they would never let go.


End file.
